


Relax, Dude

by DeepLittleSOB



Series: Lizzy-verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Casual Sex, Drinking, F/M, First Love, First Meetings, Marijuana, Objectification, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepLittleSOB/pseuds/DeepLittleSOB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts here.  The epic story that is Dean Winchester and Lizzy Noonan.  From their first time seeing each other to the first time they shout heatedly at each other in an alleyway after Lizzy tries to kick a girl's ass in a bar to the first time Dean makes her say his name behind closed doors, watch the massive, 20-story journey begin with a sliced arm that needs some expert stitching... followed by the requisite whiskey shots, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am new to AO3 but I have a series already created that I am just now beginning to post here. I am excited to share it with you all and really excited to become a part of this community.
> 
> This is the first story of roughly twenty. My work on this all started when I had a conversation with a fellow Supernatural fan about how implausible it is that Lisa Braden was the girl for Dean Winchester. I adore her character, don't get me wrong. She was cute and sweet and everything he needed when the end of season 5 occurred. But she isn't the right match for him in the long run so I took it upon myself to make her. From here (set in season 2 right after the episode Heartache) the story line has become very involved, very interesting, and it has a mind of its own!
> 
> This was written four years ago. I've completely run through it and revamped it for this site as I'm super excited to share this whole series with a new audience. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have the rights to any of the characters, situations, or story lines belonging to Supernatural. I am simply playing in their sandbox.

* * *

"How much longer, Sammy?” Dean asks from the passenger seat, wincing.  He’s holding his left arm against his chest.  A white, or at least it used to be white, towel is pressed against his outer bicep with his right hand.  The towel is quickly turning bright red. 

“Relax, dude,” Sam replies.  “We’re almost there.  About two more miles.”  Sam has the black Impala going 80 miles per hour down some secluded back roads.  Dean knows full well how much farther they need to drive.  They’ve made this journey way too many times to count and Dean is pretty sure he could do it blindfolded.  At the moment, however, this is the longest drive of his life.  He’s growing more and more impatient as he’s losing more and more blood.

“ _You_ relax,” Dean murmurs under his breath like a whiny child as he turns up the volume on the stereo as the beginning riff of ‘Master of Puppets’ fills the car.

They travel without talking for the last few miles until Sam takes a right into Singer Auto.  After the bumpy trip up the dirt driveway, they park the Chevy and Sam and Dean are on their feet quickly.  Sam grabs two duffles from the trunk and they head for the side door that leads to the kitchen.  Sam pushes the door open but Dean rushes through first, gruffly shoving his much taller brother out of the way. 

“Bobby!”  Dean yells out into the first floor of the house.  “Bobby!  Where the hell are you?”

He sees Bobby come around the corner from the living room, beer in hand.  “What the hell are you two doing here?” Bobby questioned, clearly surprised to see the brothers.  “And at two a.m.  And what happened to you?”  He nods his head towards Dean’s arm when he sees the bloody towel over it. 

“Found that demon we were looking for.” Dean explains quickly.  “The bitch got me good before we could take care of her, though.”  He begins walking towards the living room.  “We weren’t too far from here and we’re out of supplies, so surprise.”  He pulls the towel away from the wound and takes a look just has he rounds the corner.  “Son of a bitch, I am bleeding like a bastard over here... whoa, uh.”

It’s then that Dean realizes Bobby wasn’t alone.  There are young two women sitting on Bobby’s couch, one on each end.  Observing them one at a time, he notices the one on the right has very long blond hair, bright blue eyes, lips to challenge Angelina’s, and she’s wearing an old, faded blue Red Sox t-shirt with well-worn jeans.  Her tan riding boots are on the floor by the couch and she has her legs tucked under her as she leans onto the arm of the couch, a beer in her hand.  Dean thinks she looks a little like Jo with her petite size and bleached hair.  Then he looks to the left and takes in the second girl with dark, almost black hair just past her shoulders and chestnut brown eyes.   The tan leather bomber jacket she’s wearing looks well worn, but it suits her well.  The Led Zeppelin t-shirt underneath is tight and black.  The leather utility boots on her feet are functional and scuffed up with use.  Her jeans are tighter and darker than the blond girl to the right.  She’s sitting at the edge of the couch, legs apart, feet on the floor.  Her elbows are resting on her knees and her hands are wrapped around a beer bottle of her own.  Both are looking up at him with startled expressions. 

Even when bleeding profusely, Dean knows the importance of a good first impression, especially with women.  He consciously turns on the charm as best he can at the moment.  Despite his injury, he flashes his pearly whites and in the smoothest voice he can muster says, “Well… hello there ladies.”

“Hey there, tough guy,” the dark haired girl muses in a light tone with a quick little wink sent his way.

“Damn straight, tough guy,” Dean smirks back at her.

“Oh yeah,” the blonde says, her words dripping with sarcasm as she eyes the injury.  “It looks like you _really_ showed that demon.”

Dean can hear Sam laugh under his breath from the doorway behind him.  He snaps his focus around and eyes Sam hard, giving him an annoyed look with his egging on the rude girl, then faces the females on the couch again.  “Yeah, well the evil bitch ain’t breathing now,” Dean responds somewhat defensively.  “She just got in one good shot before I sent her ass back to the pit.”

“Or rather, _I_ sent her back,” Sam adds with a smirk, arms now crossed over his chest and leaning into the doorway.  He’s more than amused already.

 “Details, Sammy,” Dean brushes aside the call out.  “Now, can someone get me sown up before I bleed out in Bobby’s living room?  Rather not do it myself….”

“Since the last time you did it yourself you made it worse?”

“Shut it, Sam,” Dean fires out, angry that he might be making him look bad in front of the two damn good looking girls on in the living room.

“Alright, I’ll do it….” Sam starts to relent but gets interrupted.

“Hold on.”

Dean watches as the dark haired girl stands up from the couch and walks over to him.  She lifts the towel, gets a good look, and makes a worried face.  “Bobby, you still keep everything in the bathroom?” she calls to him without looking up from the slice in Dean’s skin.

“Cabinet under the sink,” the older man easily answers.  “I stocked up recently so I think everything you need will be in there.”

She looks over toward Bobby and nods with a smile to thank him.   She then turns back to Dean.  “Alright, Hot Shot.  Head to the bathroom and I’ll meet you in there.  Gotta put you back together again before you pass out where you stand.”

She smiles warmly at him with her straight white teeth and calm, bright eyes.  There’s a feeling of calm and kindness he’s getting from her instantly.  He wrinkles his brow just a bit before smiling back, watching as she turns away to gather what she needs.  He stands there for just a split second, nods once to himself, and then heads for the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

“Wow.  Now _that_ is a clean slice,” the dark haired girl awes while inspecting Dean’s arm.  “And deep, too.  This chick knew what she was doing, huh?”

Dean’s sitting on the closed toilet and the girl is sitting Indian-style on the floor with an array of supplies around her, including a small black bag she retrieved from one of the upstairs bedrooms.  Dean’s grey long sleeve Henley is sitting in the corner, the arm slashed and covered in blood.  “She was quick, I’ll give her that,” he admits.

“And I think your wardrobe just got a little smaller, too,” she nods at his shirt.  “It was a blade I’m assuming?”

“You assume right,” Dean confirms, his face twisting slightly in pain as she inspects and pokes around his cut. 

“Good.  That means I don’t have to go fishing for any broken glass or anything.  Here, take this.”  She hands him the beer she was holding and two white pills from a prescription bottle she took out of the little black bag.  “You’re definitely going to want to take the edge off.  Does Vicodin make you sick?”

“Nah, not that I know of… then again, I haven’t had any of these since I was in high school.”  Dean looks down at the pills, jostling them slightly in his hand as the memory comes back to him.  “Hah, I got pretty messed up that night.  We were in Hoboken for about a month.  I went drinking with some kids from whatever school I was going to at the time.  We went to this old factory I remember.”  He laughs slightly to himself again.  “I was supposed to be watching Sam that night but I snuck out instead.  This guy, Tommy, his mom just got her wisdom teeth out so he stole...ugh!”  He looks down to see the girl pouring something clear from a bottle onto the cut.  Rubbing alcohol, he thinks.  It smells like shit and burns like hell. 

 “Sorry, I ran out of saline and need to clean this out,” she apologizes as she is using gauze to clean up his arm.  “I should’ve warned you, right?  That woulda been nice of me?”

“Yeah.  I mean, no.  No, it’s fine,” he stutters out awkwardly, surprising himself with the sudden nervousness he feels.  He never feels nervousness in front of women.  Ever.

Dean then sits in silence as he tries to play off the pain, though he knows the expression on his face is betraying him.  He immediately pops the pills in his mouth and chases them down with a big swig from his beer.  As he pulls the bottle away from his mouth he feels something slick, almost slimy on his lips.  After licking them, he realizes it tastes weird too.  Sweet, almost like frosting, but not quite.

“What the hell is that?”

“What’s what?” the girl wonders as she looks up from under her side swept bangs, her eyes looking brighter as the light from the bathroom vanity hits them, almost hazel.  Dean’s thinking he may have to turn up the charm on this one.  She is his type after all.  Dark hair, dark eyes, a nice round ass, tight body with curves… all the requirements are there.  It’s then that Dean realizes he’s been in his own head a little too long and he sees the girl looking expectantly up at him, eyebrows lifted and waiting for a response.

“The stuff that’s on my beer?  That’s now all over my lips?”

“Oh, my lip gloss,” she huffs a laugh.  “That beer _was_ mine before it became yours.”

“You want it back?” Dean offers when she makes the comment.

“No, no,” the girl waves him off.  “I just forgot to wipe it off before I handed it over.  It’s a good color on you.”  She’s smiling up at him.  He notices that she has a little bit of an accent, though he’s not sure where it’s from.  She doesn’t pronounce all of her R’s so it’s got to be east coast somewhere.  He glances down at her lips.  They’re coated lightly in gloss.  They look full and look so inviting.  Yes, he’s in trouble, he knows it now.

“Thanks,” Dean smiles back.

“You’re welcome.”

“So,” he begins.  “I have to say, you really look like you know what you’re doing down there.”  After realizing the double entendre, he grimaces slightly but stands behind his words.

She just looks up at him with a slightly surprised face that lets him know she picked up on it before bursting out a good laugh, getting back to work.  “And I have to say, a pervy streak.  I like that in a man.  And yeah, I do know what I am doing.  I was pre-med for a year before I left school.  It’s come in quite handy in this line of work.”  She glances up at him.  “Good thing I used to want to be a doctor, right?”

And Dean nods disappointingly in recognition of what he has here in front of him.  “Ah, so you’re hot _and_ a bookworm.  Great.  Do me a favor and stay away from my brother.”  Dean rolls his eyes. 

“Hey, I said I was pre-med but I never said I had stellar grades.”

“Don’t all doc-wannabes have good grades?”

“The ones that are meant to be doctors do,” she giggles.  “But… it was college.  And college was fun.  Really fucking fun.  Sometimes _too_ fun…”

“Well, now you’re sounding more like my kinda chick,” grins Dean as he tilts his beer toward her and then takes another long pull from it, licking his lips afterwards.  This mystery girl’s lip gloss is starting to taste pretty good.  “Uh, I never really introduced myself, did I?”

“Nope.”

“I’m Dean.  The bigfoot in the other room is my brother, Sam.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dean,” she says without looking away from her work while mid stitch.  “I’m Lizzy.  The sarcastic blondie in the other room is my best friend, Louise.  But call her Lou.  She’ll seriously kick your ass if you call her Louise.  She hates that name.”

“Then I promise I won’t.”

There is a short silent pause while Lizzy works and thinks over what he’s just told her when suddenly her eyes light up.  “Oh, Sam and Dean _Winchester_?”

With pride, Dean smiles and answers, “That’d be us.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.  You know, I was wondering if I was ever going to meet the two boys Bobby’s always telling us about.”  She keeps talking as she returns to her work.  “Damn, you guys are like sons to that guy.  And, from what he’s told us, you guys get yourselves into loads of shit!  And deep shit, too.  Looking at some of these scars you’ve got,” her eyes roam over Dean’s torso and he feels slightly self-conscious… but happy she’s looking.  “I’m surprised you’re still fucking breathing!”

 “Wow, trucker mouth.  I like that in a chick,” Dean flirts as he recalls their earlier conversation.  “And yeah, you’ve got us pretty much pegged.”

 “Kill until you’re killed?”

 “I’m going out swinging, sweetheart,” he quickly responds.

 “Oh, you know, you two are the only reason Louie and I were able to figure out our last hunt.  I remembered Bobby once telling us about how you guys came across a shapeshifter before.  He told us about how you figured out what you were dealing with and how you offed it.”

“Shifters, man,” Dean shakes his head morosely and shivers with the jeebs.

“Don’t I know it,” Lizzy emphatically agrees.  “I mean, usually we only deal with low level stuff, you know, ghosts and the likes.  Bobby doesn’t like us getting our hands too dirty still even though I’m pretty sure we could handle it.”

“You let Bobby find all your hunts?”

“Most of them,” she nods.  “Part of the agreement we have with him.  Anyways, when we went into that job we had no idea what we were about to deal with.  We were totally taken off our game when we ran into that piece of shit.  And that son of a bitch had the balls to shift into a copy of me.  Can you believe that?”

“Uh, actually… yeah, I can,” Dean answers, remembering the shifter that was torturing and killing women in Stanford while wearing his mug. 

“Well, that asshole stole my identity.  Pissed me off like nothing I’ve ever come across.” 

“Ow!” Dean jumps slightly and lets out a little yelp that he’d deny if anyone ever asked.  Lizzy was getting a little too rough with her stitching as she was telling her story.  He’s pretty sure this girl is packing away a good amount of anger.  He can see it in her under the very kind exterior and he most definitely knows how she feels.  It takes an anger management case to know one.

“Shit, sorry about that,” she apologizes instantly and resumes in a more gentle fashion. I just get so mad when I think about it.  “I don’t deal well when anyone fucks with my family, you know?  I mean, Lou and I are just best friends but we lived our lives together since we were little.  And after everything we’ve been though?  We’re sisters in everything but blood.  She’s my family and that monster piece of shit spent a half a day with her, lying to her and pretending to be me.  Luckily my girl was quick to figure it out.  She knew right away.  After waiting for the right opportunity she stabbed that bitch right in the heart.”  Lizzy huffs her laugh of sheer awe.  “Man, I would never fuck with that girl.  She can be a beast.”

“She’s good to have in your corner then,” Dean comments.

“That’s true… but I guess you know all about the luxury of having someone close to you having your back, right?”  She winks at him, knowing he’d understand.

“Yeah, I definitely do,” he responds.  Dean takes another sip of beer.  “So you’re a hunter?”

“Yes, sir.  We’ve been doing it for about three years now.  You two have been doing it since you were young, right?”

“Since we were kids.”

“Must have been something bad to bring you into the fray so young.”  She says it not to pry but to let him know she understands.

“Must have been some awful stuff to drag you and your friend into this shitty world together too.”  He does understand.

“Well, if by shitty world you mean a world in which I get to be a super hero who kicks the crap out of evil and keeps innocent people safe, then yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in shock.  Her sunny outlook is surprising to him.  “Touché.  Guess I forget about the good side sometimes.”  After how insanely deep he and Sam have gotten themselves into the whole hunting world he _has_ forgotten about the better things that have come with it, like how he’s grown closer to Sam through hunting, that he has saved many people’s lives many times, and that at least he isn’t sitting behind a desk like a zombie working a nine-to-five like some chump.  Then again, this girl has only been hunting for three years.  She should talk to him again after another twenty or so, see how she feels then.

“Sounds like you do,” Lizzy quickly responds.  “If you focus on all the wrong things, you’ll never get out of this life alive.”

“Nobody gets out alive anyways,” Dean reminds her.

“Fair enough,” she nods.  “But leaving time for fun makes hunting doable.  Otherwise, you’ll go totally insane.”

They sit in silence for a bit as Lizzy finishes putting him back together again and Dean mulls over the words of wisdom that Lizzy just dealt out.  Sometimes he needs that reminder. 

It isn’t too much longer before she’s taping gauze over her handiwork.

“Alright, you are all set, Hot Shot,” Lizzy explains as she stands up. 

“Thank you, doctor,” Dean feigns seriousness while smiling up at her.  Surprisingly, his pain is minimal and he’s feeling alright.  She’s good, he thinks to himself.  Either that, or the Vicodin is good.  Lizzy holds out a hand to help him back up.  He grabs hold and stands.

“You’re very welcome.  I want you to change that gauze daily, keep it clean, and I prescribe several shots of whiskey… tonight, if possible.  Do that and you’ll be back into fighting form in no time.”

“I can do that,” Dean laughs quietly.  Lizzy turns to leave the bathroom but something is making Dean curious.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” she responds with ease.

“Vicodin?  You just have that stuff lying around?”

“Yeah.  I stole a bunch of prescription pads from one of my professors before ditching school.  I write out a prescription and one of us fills it locally.  We go into small town, Mom and Pop drug stores during busier times so most likely the pharmacist won’t notice that the doctor listed is complete bullshit.  We hardly get questioned.”

“Good scam,” he responds with sheer awe in her.

“If that gets infected, let me know.  I have antibiotics, too.”

Dean nods his head again.  “Impressive.  Will do.”

“Um, since we are asking questions… I have one for you.”

“Okay.”

“The tattoo,” she points to his chest.  “What’s it mean?”

“Anti-possession.  It protects from any demons wanting to wear my meat.”

“Seriously?” Lizzy breaths out while running her fingers lightly over the dark black ink.  Barely having gotten to know each other, Dean is caught off guard when she closed the space between them.  He’s not complaining in the least, just a little surprised.  “Looks extremely new.”

“It is.  Got them last week.”

“It’s functional art,” she admires, fingertips just dancing over his skin.  “Damn, I love this.  Does it hurt still?”

“I think my arm is currently doing a good job in distracting me from any other pain.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Well, Sam and I had been wearing these charms that Bobby gave us after Sam got his ass hijacked a few months ago.  Sam was the one who thought of the idea of making it more permanent so we can’t lose ‘em.”

“ _Very_ smart.  He must be the brains of the operation,” Lizzy laughs lightly, the sound getting better and better to Dean’s ears.  “You mind if I get a picture of this at some point?  I would love to add this into my own work?”

“Your own work?”

“Oh yeah,” Lizzy starts as she slips her left arm out of her jacket and pulls up the short sleeve to reveal the work she was talking about.  “Before I started hunting, I had always wanted to get a sleeve done but was too chicken shit to do it.  Plus I didn’t have a clue as to what to get before recent years.  Once Lou and I dove in head first, I figured life is short and went for it.”

Dean holds her arm in his hands, turning it back and forth as he admires the work.  Her arm from her shoulder to elbow was blanketed in symbols, dates, and other assorted Latin scripts.  It was her hunting career in permanence on her skin.

“This is…” Dean begins, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Bad ass?” she lights up with a smile.  “I know, you don’t have to say it.”

Dean laughs.  “I like it.  A lot, actually.”  He does.  He also finds it pretty hot in all honesty.  Tattoos are always sexy, that's a rule.

“Thank you.  And I’m serious.  I _will_ need to get a picture before you leave.”  She bends down to pick up the fresh t-shirt of his that she had thrown in the corner when she first came into the bathroom.  “Here, grabbed this from Sam.” 

She tosses him the new t-shirt and turns to the bathroom door.  He pulls the shirt over his head and into place before looking at her with high hopes.  “So doctor, wasn't it whiskey you were telling me to take earlier?"

 

* * *

 

Dean and Lizzy walk into the living room once he’s patched up.  Sam had taken Lizzy’s seat next to Lou at the couch and Bobby is in his usual chair across from them.  Everyone has a beer in their hand and are listening intently to the story Sam is telling.

“…the bar is practically empty,” he explains, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  “There are four other guys playing pool in the corner and one girl sitting at the bar so naturally Dean starts hitting on her.  I take a seat at a table nearby just close enough to listen to him lay on the lame lines as usual and he….”

“Whoa!” Dean interrupts while taking offence.  He remembers the night Sam is talking about and knows his pride is about to take a hit.  Time for damage control.  “Lame lines?  You know that chick was as good as mine, Sammy.  She was definitely feeling me.  I didn’t need any lame lines.”  Dean is glaring at Sam, trying to silently tell him he needs to lighten up on making fun of him in front of the girls.

“You’re right, Dean.  She was _totally_ into you,” Sam caustically responds, not looking to ease up even if Dean clearly wants him to.  “That’s why her drink ended up in your face, right?”  Sam laughs along with the rest of the room. 

“She was a prude….” Dean tries to excuse but Sam’s hearing none of it.

“Dude, I know you used the Grant line.  I heard you say it to her.  And by the way, she was _not_ drunk enough for that to work.  Usually they need puke on their shoes for that one to work.”

“Hold on, what the _fuck_ is the Grant line?” interjects Lou from the couch. 

“Yes, Dean.  Share with the class your Grant line,” adds Bobby knowingly.  It’s clear he’s aware of this line already. 

Lizzy is staring with a wide smile at Dean, waiting.  Dean feels the red color creeping up his neck and onto his face.  “It’s not that good…”

“Come on, tough guy,” Lizzy goads him on in a calm way.  “What’s the Grant line?”

Dean sighs heavily.  In a defensive voice, he says, “I just asked if she wanted to make a quick fifty bucks.”  He shrugs and tries to play it off.

The living room erupts with laughter.  When sober, the line really loses its gusto. 

“In my defense, I thought she looked easy enough for it to work.”  Dean knows it’s a terrible excuse but it’s all he’s got in the moment.

Lizzy pats Dean on the shoulder playfully and with plenty of fake sympathy.  “So I guess that was you letting me off with just a warning back in the bathroom, huh?”  

Her eyes are glowing again as she laughs and Dean now thinks his humiliation was worth it.  He got her to look at him that way.  He’ll let Sam embarrass him more if he can get that again.

“Louie!” Lizzy yells over her shoulder as she heads for the kitchen, her arm motioning for her friend to follow as she keeps walking.  “Whiskey shots!  C’mon!”

“It’s about time, bitch!” Lou shouts back as she jumps off the couch in excitement.  “Boys?  Care for a drink or seven?”  She points around the room at the three men, asking them to join in.

“Don’t have to ask me twice!” Dean gets excited at the idea of drinking with two hot chicks.  He claps his hands together and rubs them with happiness.  “Let’s go, Sam.  You can get a little drunk this one time, right?”

“Yeah, uh… alright,” Sam answers while looking at Lou’s expectant face.  Clearly she wanted him to join in.  He then looks to the man of the house.  “You coming, Bobby?”

He thinks quickly.  “Aw, what the hell, right?  A couple won’t kill me at this point in my life.”

 

* * *

 


	2. Hangovers and New Days

* * *

Hearing someone shuffling around in the room he’s in, Dean stirs from his deep sleep.   He comes to and without moving a muscle he can tell this wasn’t going to be an easy morning.  His head is pounding, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, neck sore from drooping onto his shoulder while passed out, and ass numb from being seated in a wooden kitchen chair all night.  Wooden chair?  Seriously?  He can’t remember the last time he passed out this hard. 

Slowly, Dean pries opens his eyes and looks around.  He’s in Bobby’s kitchen, no doubt in his mind.  He knows that room better than most others in his life.

The hazy, cloudy feeling that has settled into his brain overnight makes the room spin slightly.  The moment passes and he focuses in on the sounds of movement that woke him in the first place.  He sees a cute, petite blonde with her back to him messing around at the kitchen counter. Her faded blue t-shirt is what makes Dean remember her as it’s the same Red Sox one she was wearing the night before.  While reaching for a coffee filter on the top shelf of the cabinets, a very high reach for her very short height, her white cotton pajama shorts ride up, allowing for a very brief ass-cheek-peek.  Dean silently wishes he could wake up like this more often.  A show right off the bat.  His hangover almost feels better after that. 

After a moment of quiet and selfish observation, Dean clears his throat to let Lou know he’s awake. 

She instantly turns with a start and smiles when she sees him looking back at her.  “Good morning, sunshine!”

“Ugh,” Dean grumbles in a wordless return.

“Sounds about right,” she laughs slightly with his terrible response combined with his appearance.  “You look like shit.”

“Aren’t you a peach,” he flatly returns.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean murmurs.  After shifting in the wooden chair with the hopes of regaining feeling in his ass, he puts his elbows on the table and then roughly rubs over his face with his hands.  Holy crap, he can’t drink like that anymore.  He isn’t eighteen these days….

“Hey,” Sam greets as he walks in carrying some empty beer bottles.  “Whoa.  You look like shit.”

“Seems to be the general consensus.”  Dean wishes he felt half as good as the two people in front of him.  What the fuck happened?  “What time is it?”

“Ten-thirty,” Sam says while obviously looking at the wall clock that would have taken Dean a simple turn of the head to see himself.  “Guess that Vicodin really put you down last night.”  He knowingly uses an all-too-cheerful voice on purpose.

“Yep, sure did,” Lou answers on Dean’s behalf, delighting in it as she leans her back into the counter’s edge and crosses her arms over her chest.  She observes Dean’s pain with a grin.  “You were out like a light, dude.  Sam couldn’t even get you standing so he could drag your ass into bed.”

“His loss,” Dean drily jokes all too quickly.  “I’m gonna go lay down before I die.  Lemme know when coffee’s ready.”

Dean stands up slowly and drags his feet to the couch, listening to Sam and Lou joke at his expense as he does.  He flips them the middle finger over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Aw, we hurt his feelings,” Lou jokes and Sam laughs loudly at it, too happy to have someone to help him get the advantage over his big brother for once.

“Eat shit,” Dean gripes.  “Both of ya.”

Once in the living room he drops down on the antique couch with a grunt and some serious relief.  The cushions feel far better than the ridged, hard wooden chair certainly did. 

While on his back he drapes his arm over his eyes to block out the harsh daylight filtering through the dirty old windows of Bobby’s place.  Not even the dirt can help ease his pain now. 

What happened last night?  It wasn’t the craziest night he’s had, he knows that much.  He didn’t get laid he’s pretty sure and he doesn’t recall drinking enough to feel this absolutely craptastic.  All he can remember is bits and pieces of sitting at the kitchen table after getting sewn back up by possibly the hottest chick he’s ever seen before. 

Flashes come through; winning some games of quarters, talking to the girls about hunt of the past and Bobby in general once he went to bed earlier then the rest, Lou sitting on his lap while ‘teaching’ her to play poker (she was well versed in how already and was playing dumb beforehand), and… and… going shot for shot with Lizzy when she called him out on his lack of drinking prowess. 

That’s what put him over the edge.  So.  Many.  Shots.  She’s a machine.  She was impressive.  And now Dean knows he has to stop pretending he can handle drinking like that anymore.  Eh, at the same time he knows that pride is one son of a bitch.  He won’t ever stop drinking like a fish, especially while trying to impress the girl that he’d had his eye on since he walked through the door.

“Guess I’m not the only hungover asshole this fine morning,” Lizzy complains, announcing her presence to the clearly destroyed man on the couch. 

Dean pulls his arm away from his face and watches Lizzy plop herself into Bobby’s favorite chair and put her feet up on the ottoman in front of it.  Lizzy’s body language tells him she is hurting too but somehow she still looks damn good to him.  She’s wearing a white wife beater and some tight, very short black shorts.  Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, a thin elastic headband holding back her sweeping bangs and her makeup is all washed off now.  She looks fresh despite her hangover.

Now, admittedly Dean’s slept with probably too many woman by traditional standards.  Ok, definitely.  But on the rare occasion that he’s caught a woman in the morning sans makeup and true effort he’s been disappointed.  Lizzy is debunking his previous assumptions.  She’s looks honestly beautiful and if his head were clearer he might have mentioned how good she looks first thing in the morning.  Right now, though, there is no way he could formulate the words properly.

Instead he settles for commenting on her morning greeting.  “No you are not.”

“Shot for shot was a bad idea,” she laughs, then groans when the pain reminds her that laughing is a bad idea.

“So bad,” Dean easily agrees.  “I think my skull is gonna crack open.”

“Here, take three of these.”  Lizzy tosses him a white bottle.  “I already did.”

Dean pops the top and pours three into his hand.  Without thinking first, he pops them into his mouth and swallows without water.  And then it hits him.  “Probably should have asked before taking them but what were those?”

“Just Advil.”  She smiles at him reassuringly, knowing she’s to blame for his total collapse the night before.  Two Vicodin for an arm cut?  On a hunter?  That drinks like a fish?  Terrible.

“Good,” Dean relieves while dropping his head back onto the couch cushion.  “No more serious pain killers.”

Lizzy forces a small smile at him for the funny comment while observing him.  He’s stretched out on the couch in his clothes from the night before.  His tightly toned stomach is just slightly revealed through the sliver between his black t-shirt that rode up a touch and the waist of his jeans.  And his strong arms are completely visible in the short sleeves.  Mm.  She sighs to herself.  She knew the second she saw him that he was hotter than hot and that he was something else but damn.  He’s exceptional and after last night and this morning’s reminder of his looks she’s read to hone in on him shamelessly if need be.

Diverting her eyes when Sam walks into the room with two coffee mugs, she shifts and sits up taller, trying to hide her ogling.  An innocent smile gets aimed at him and Sam mirrors it right back.

“Good morning,” he greets Lizzy, handing her a cup while trying not to look at her too much.  She’s barely wearing anything.  “Looks like Dean’s in some seriously good company.”

“Eat me,” Lizzy and Dean answer at the same time.  They glance at each other, completely surprised at the coincidence.

“We have to separate you two,” Lou adds as she walks into the room, eyes rolling.

Dean tries to laugh, but thinks better of it as his head pounds harder when he does.

“Anyone know where Bobby is?” Sam inquires as he takes a seat in an open upholstered chair.

“Oh, I saw him this morning.  He went out to get some stuff for the house,” Lou tells him as she squeezes into the chair with Lizzy.  They barely fit together but they make it work.  Lizzy rests her head on Lou’s shoulder, her tattooed arm draped over Lou’s bent up knees and cuddles in a little.  Her eyes stay closed to block the daylight.  “It sounded like he assumed he’d have some company around for a few days.”

“Honestly, that’s kinda why I wanted to stop in here in the first place,” Lizzy states without lifting her lids.  “No driving, no fighting, just, you know, _being_.”

“Uh!” Lou groans with total appreciation for the sentiment.  “That sounds nice right about now.  We’ve been going, going, going for, like, two months.”

“And you know it gets lonely around here,” Lizzy keeps going.  “We should stay and cook some meals, maybe clean up the place.  You know, the usual.”

Lou wraps her arm around Lizzy’s shoulder before playing with her hair, knowing the girl is hurting pretty badly with her hangover.  “Yeah, I like that idea.  We totally should do that.”

“Awesome,” Lizzy smiles through the pain.

“Then we should head out, though.  Shirl told me a while back that she’d kill us if she didn’t see us soon.”

“Shit.  It’s been way too long this time.”  Lizzy looks up at Lou knowingly.  “We dropped the ball.”

“I’m shocked she hasn’t come looking for us in her old Buick yet,” Lou laughs lightly.

“Who’s Shirl?” Sam questions, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“Shirley.  My grandmother,” Lizzy answers.  “But she’s kind of adopted Lou as another grandkid over time.” 

“You have family?” Dean asks with surprise, turning his head to look at her.

She gives a funny expression back.  “We all have family, Dean.” 

He doesn’t respond to that.  He was just taken aback that she has family around at all since most hunters didn’t.

“She just worries about us a lot,” Lizzy tells Sam.  “Probably too much.  We try to keep tabs, call her once a week, but it isn’t always easy.  She might kill us if we don’t visit her soon.”  She turns to Lou.  “She left me another message last night, you know.”

“She did?” Lou wonders and Lizzy nods in response.  “Ok then, it’s a plan.  We can stay until Monday, maybe?  Then go see Shirley.  Hopefully Bobby doesn’t find us something to do before then.”

“You’ve made the Great Shirl very happy,” Lizzy comments while dropping her head back down on Lou’s shoulder.  She keeps her eyes open this time and looks to the two young men in the room.  “How about you two?  Anything pressing you have to get to?”

“Mmhmm,” grumbles Dean from under his arm, once more draping it over his eyes.  “I need to work on Baby.

“Baby?” Lou asks, eyebrow arching with curiosity.

“My number one girl,” he says with a smile.

“He means his car,” Sam lets them in on.

“She’s been needing a little TLC for a while now.  Bobby has everything I need, so I figured I would start today since we’re here.”

“What kind of car do you have?” Lou questions, Dean missing the excitement in the question while having his eyes closed.

“'67 Chevy Impala,” he answers with total pride.

“Two door?” Lou pries on and it makes Dean uncover his eyes, head lifting up to look at her.

“Four,” he says with an interested face. 

“I’m hoping you have a 427 in that thing then,” Lou says with certainty.

“No,” Dean sits up a bit and looks at her with lit up eyes.  “V8 327 four-barrel.”

“Oh man,” Lou awes, eyes rolling back.  “That thing hauls, doesn’t it?”

“Yes she does,” Dean smiles a little.  “You know a little something about cars?”

“A little something,” she nods and sips her coffee.  “Might have to check out this Baby of yours at some point.”

“If you know what you’re doing, sure,” Dean invites.  “I’ll be working on her for a couple days.

“Um, Dean… we did have that thing to look for,” Sam not so subtly reminds. 

“Hell are you talking about?” Dean asks, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

“The same thing we’ve been tracking for a while now,” Sam says with sheer annoyance, shooting a look at Dean.  “We have work to do.”

The girls glance at the two men with puzzled expressions.  They know something is up, it’s pretty plain to see.  There’s tension there, and a secret.

“We do,” Dean agrees as he props himself up on his elbow to look solely at Sam.  “But, as you know, we are at a dead end with that thing right now.  No leads, dude.  Not for a while.  I think we should take a minute and step away before it make us crazy, especially you.  We’ve taken a few days off here and there every great now and then, so let’s just do that.  Take a few days off.  Recharge the batteries.  I think it’ll be good for us.”

Sam gives him that face, the bitch face Dean knows all too well.  “Dean, don’t you think we should…”

“Sam, what are we going to do, huh?” Dean asks when he gets upset at the idea of leaving Bobby’s right now.  “Drive around the country aimlessly hoping to accidentally bump into it?  Not gonna happen.  You need to take some time off, man.  _I_ know you do.  _You_ know you do.  And I am not going anywhere until the Impala gets what she needs.  That’s all there is to it.” 

Sam sets his jaw and tilts his head once quickly, deep breath in and out with frustration.  He hates when Dean gets this way.  The authoritative bullshit gets old.  Maybe they do need a break….  “Fine.  But if we learn something, hear anything….”

“We leave right away.  I promise, Sammy.”

There is a long pause as they stare at each other.  The room feels heavy.  Lizzy and Lou exchange glances again, more curious than ever and clearly confused.

“Alright.  A couple days.”  Sam finally concedes, though obviously irritated and worried.

Once he knows they’re all staying for a bit Dean takes a second to observe the two girls pressed up against each other on Bobby’s chair, their very small pajamas showing off their forms, and he sees how it might be nice to spend time with new people for a little while.  People not named Sam.  People that were hot and comfortable wearing next to nothing.  People that were apparently fun to drink with, too.  Sam will eventually see that they made the right decision despite his worries.  How could he not?

But for now Dean turns away from everyone in the room and closes his eyes.  He needs a nap desperately.  He can’t enjoy the fact that two hot women are in his presence until this hangover subsides.

“Well then,” Lizzy announces, breaking up the moment.  “I am going to pretend I don’t want to throw up right now and take a shower.  And put real clothes on.   And brush my teeth, gross.”  Lizzy pries herself out of the shared chair and stands up.  “Anyone need the bathroom before I go in there for a bit?”

Dean realizes now that he in fact does and raises his hand in the air as if answering a teacher.

“Ok, just hurry up.  And I hope all you have to do is piss.”

Dean holds up one finger, answering her question.

Lizzy chuckles and heads upstairs to grab her things.  Dean pushes himself off the couch to head into the bathroom and starts to think that brushing his teeth was a good idea.  Maybe he could brush away the taste of stale whiskey.  He looks at Sam.  “Where’s our stuff?”

“In the room I always stay in.”

“Why’s my stuff in your room?” Dean asks.

“Because we’re sharing a room,” Sam answers, thinking it should be obvious.  “The girls took your usual room.”

“So I have to share a room with you?  There’s only one bed in there.” Dean scrunches up his face in disgust.

“We’ll manage,” Sam reassures with a smile, knowing Dean’s being far too reactive over it.  They shared a bed as kids all the time.  It’ll suck but they’ll survive.

The urgency to relieve himself gets the best of him, so Dean abandons the toothbrush for now and shuffles to the bathroom.  Shutting the door with a loud thud that makes him massage his throbbing temples, he turns on the light, rubs a hand down his face, and takes a look in the bathroom mirror.  He pauses instantly when he sees it.

“Oh, come on!”

He can hear Lou and Sam laughing through the closed door. 

“Really!?” he bitches as he rubs at the permanent marker on his forehead in the outline of a penis.  It doesn’t even smudge.  “I’m surrounded by friggin’ children,” Dean mumbles as he reaches for a washcloth.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Sam asks from across the kitchen table as he watches Lou finish up buttering her toast before opening the peanut butter jar.

She looks at him confused.  “I’m making toast?” Lou answers hesitantly, unsure of what he’s asking.

“Why did you just butter it if you’re putting peanut butter on it?” he questions her actions with disgust.

She smiles a little.  “Are you criticizing my toast preparations?”

“I just think that’s… weird as hell,” he laughs a bit.

She nods knowingly.  “Yeah, people have told me that before.  But… I grew up eating toast this way.  It’s how my mom did it.”

“She eat a lot of weird things?”

“No… she just ate toast with butter first and then whatever else on top,” Lou shrugs with a more sullen attitude suddenly.

And Sam picked up on it.  _Ate_.  She _ate_ toast like that.

“I, uh… I didn’t mean to, to insult you or say the wrong thing….” Sam tries to apologize.

“You’re fine, Sam,” Lou grins.  “You didn’t know.  And now you do.”

“I’m sorry.”

The way he looks at her, full sympathy and sincere apology, she just smiles warmly back.  He’s sweet.  “Don’t be.  _You_ didn’t kill my parents.”

“Where they vampires?” he asks with a lighter tone.

“No.”  She furrows her brow in confusion for the question.

“Demons?”

“Just people,” Lou huffs a laugh.

 “Then no… it wasn’t me.  Promise.”  He holds his hand up in a vow to her.

 She nods and starts to spread peanut butter on her buttered toast.  “So Sam….”

“Yes?” he asks in response.

“I have to ask… do you always turn down the cute blonde girls after a night of drinking or was it just me you weren't interested in?”

Hazel eyes as wide as golf balls, Sam looks at her with total surprise.

“I mean, we could’ve had a little fun last night,” she lets him know as she works on her breakfast.  “But you just weren’t having it.”

Sam nods, looking down at his second cup of coffee as he’s completely unsure of what to say.  “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” she smiles.  “I just don’t get turned down all that much.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he huffs a laugh but knows she’s telling the truth.  She’s very cute.  “I’ve just… it’s been a rough run.”

She puts the lid on the peanut butter and wrinkles her brow.  “How rough?”

“Very,” Sam admits.  “And right now… I’m not sure I need to be doing… _that_.”

She pauses and places her folded hands on the table, eyeing him seriously and without sexual motivation.  “You wanna talk about?”

His eyebrows fly to his hairline with the question.  He’s very rarely been asked that in his life.  He does need to talk about it… but want to?  “No.”

“Ok,” she nods and shares a tight lipped smile.  “I understand.  We’ve certainly all been there.”

Sam breathes deeply in relief. 

“But it you wanna talk I’m surprisingly good at listening,” she offers again. 

“Thanks,” Sam smiles small.

“And if you wanna work out your troubles in _other ways_ ,” she smirks at him, keeping the offer on the table.  “You know exactly where to find me.”

Sam looks away and actually laughs at her persistence.  “You don’t give up.”

“Not when I really, really want something… no.”

Sam watches the self-assured expression settle onto her face as she takes a bite of butter and peanut butter covered toast. 

“I think I can safely say I’ve never met anyone like you,” Sam wants her to know.

“Oh, honey.  They don’t make ‘em like me,” Lou cockily responds and Sam cringes.  She sounds like Dean.

“Jesus….” 

* * *

 He hears the quiet knock on the bedroom door but with the hangover still working its way through his body Dean ignores the sound.   Instead, he buries his head under his pillow to hide from it.  He’s still hurting pretty bad.  He’s feeling sadly old right now.

Even beneath the thick layer of stuffing and sheet he makes out the creaking of the old bedroom door opening.  Nope, can’t hide this time.  He unearths his head to see who is ruining his peaceful recovery nap.

“Hey lazy!” the now familiar female voice says to him.  “I’m doing some laundry.  You have anything you want done?”

After sitting up he can see Lizzy is standing in the doorway with a large white bag that’s already partially full.  She still running around the house in her pajamas and Dean couldn’t be happier for that.

But now he’s got a bit of a conundrum.  It’s been a couple weeks since he and Sam went to a laundromat and he has plenty in his duffle bag that could use a good washing.  Even so, he’s hesitant.  Is it weird to have a relative stranger wash your boxers? 

As if reading his mind, Lizzy huffs a laugh at him sitting in bed looking worried.  She easily answers the question in Dean’s mind.  “Look, it already took me five minutes of convincing to get your brother to let me wash his clothes.  Just give me what you have and let me avoid repeating this whole debate, okay?  In our line of work, I’ve come across smellier, much more disgusting things than some boxers that reek of ball sweat.  Or boxer-briefs in Sam’s case.”  She grins slyly and winks at him.

“Works for me,” Dean gives in easy enough.  If Sam’s cool with it then he’s definitely cool with it.  “Let me see what I have?”

“Take your time,” she smiles, looking at his bed head.  He had his hair sticking up in a patch at the crown of his head.  He looks adorable.

Dean’s headache may have started to subside now but getting up from the comfort of the bed was still enough to make him audibly groan like an octogenarian.  After meandering slowly across the room, he reaches into his duffle bag and starts sorting out everything he knows is dirty.  Once done he has most of the clothes he owns in the pile to be washed. 

“Looks like it’s been a busy time for you two lately.  No pause for chores, huh?” Lizzy observes as she walks towards the newly created heap of well-worn clothing.  She drops the white laundry bag on the floor and holds it open for him to put everything in. 

“You know how it is,” he shrugs and begins picking up the items in scoops and adding them to his brother’s already collected things.

“Yeah.  I do,” she agrees.

“Thanks for this,” he sincerely tells her while adding the last bundle to the bag.  His face makes it clear he’s not so used to having such nice things done for he and his brother and Lizzy picks up on it.  “We really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” she assures, thinking quickly.  She’s nervous to extend the invite knowing his decline would hurt pretty badly but hell, life is short.  She needs to go for what she wants when she wants it and these men, specifically Dean, have her intrigued.  “I mean, if Louie and I are gonna head out on the town tonight with two fine young men as yourselves, said young men should be dressed in freshly cleaned, funk-free clothing.  Don’t you think?”

“Out on the town, huh?” Dean questions her, hands on his hips as he stands only a foot from her.  She looks more awake now than he does.  Her eyes are bright and happy.  He wishes he remembers a time when he himself looked like that.

“If you’d want to,” Lizzy keeps trying.  “Lou and I love a place that does live music on Friday nights.  Usually classic covers that don’t sound quite right but whatever.  It’s fun.”  She laughs slightly nervously. 

“Then I guess I can’t argue with that.” 

“Then don’t,” she smiles wider than she should over such a small interaction but she’s too happy not to.  She wants to hang out with him.

And Dean himself feels a little jump in his stomach.  Was that excitement?  He hasn’t felt that in a while.  Alright, they have been looking at each other silently for a few seconds too long now.  Dean clears his throat and looks away a bit.  “I think I’m gonna take your lead and get productive.  I have a lot to get to.  Oil change, transmission work, wax job, bang out that ding in Baby’s bumper…”

“You _really_ love that car, don’t you?” inquires Lizzy, the sudden calm and adoration in his expression giving him away even more.

“Of course.  She’s my girl.”

“I think it funny that you call your car your girl.”

“Well… she’s all I have.”

Lizzy shares a sad smile with that.

“That car was my Dad’s.  Had since before he married mom and he passed it down to me when I turned sixteen.  He said I loved the damn thing more than even he did so I should have it.  He always made sure I’d take care of her and keep her perfect… hell, he’d kill me if I wasn’t.”

“He put a lot of trust in you,” Lizzy points out as she sees it.

And she has no idea just how right she is about that.  “Yeah… he did.”  Dean nods and smiles while thinking it over.  “And, you know, being on the road all the time, she’s the closest thing to a home Sammy and I’ve ever had.  She’s all we know.”  Why he’s sharing all this information with someone he’s just barely met he isn’t sure.  It’s surprising how comfortable he feels around this girl.  She has an encompassing warmth that she infects people with and she’s done a very good job of putting him at complete ease right away.

“We all have things that help tie us to our past and remember those important to us,” Lizzy states, clearly understanding very well what Dean is saying.  She then quickly keeps talking to avoid speaking about that idea any further.  No need to talk about her own past right now.  “And I’m sorry about John, by the way.  Bobby told us a few weeks back on the phone that he passed.”

Dean looks down at his feet immediately, the wound still just too fresh to be easy to speak about.  “Yeah, well….”

“There isn’t much I can say except that I know how hard it is to lose a parent… or two.  It isn’t easy but there are people that understand.  You aren’t alone, Dean.”

He looks back up to her with complete and sudden understanding.  She’s been in his shoes, so to say.  She’s on her own too.

“Thank you,” Dean responds quietly, truly meaning it. 

“You’re welcome.”

They stare at each other for a moment after sharing something so deeply profound despite having met just hours ago before Lizzy leans down to pick up the now full bag resting at her feet. 

“I’m going to get moving on this.  Tall order!”  Lizzy hoists the bag over her right shoulder and starts heading down the hall after grinning warmly at him yet again.  She calls back over her shoulder once a few steps away, “Permanent marker’s a real bitch, Dean.  You should try using rubbing alcohol to get that leftover dick off your forehead.”

* * *

Dean makes his way down the stairs after showering and redressing in some non-slept-in clothing.  He has a couple t-shirts in hand and as walks through the study he finds Sam lost in a book that looks centuries old and the sound of Bobby in the kitchen vouching for someone who is posing as an FBI higher up.  He stares at Sam for a second, watching the concentration written into his expression as he pours over yet another book with demonic information that won’t give them the answers they need.

He’s worried about his brother.  This whole thing with Yellow Eyes is eating Sam up and Dean knows it.  He sees it every second of every day.  The idea of vengeance for Dad and Jessica is going to drive him insane.  Dean wants his day of retribution too, oh is he itching to gank the son of a bitch that ruined his family, but he hasn’t let it change who he is so drastically.

Sam used to hate this life, rebelling against it and eventually running away from it, but once Jessica died he fully embraced being a hunter and that wasn’t the Sam Dean knew his whole life.  Sam’s never embraced hunting.  Ever.  This isn’t good.

Even if Dean can’t kill Yellow Eyes today and make it all better he can at least he can try to steal Sam away for a little bit and make his mind go elsewhere for once.

“Sammy.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, finishing up the line he was in the middle of reading before looking up from his seat on the cot to look at Dean.

“You wanna get your head outta the books and help me with the car for a little bit?”

Sam’s face wrinkles in confusion.  “You feeling ok?”

“Shut up.  You in or what?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

“ _It’ll be fun_?” Sam laughs at him.

“It’ll be good for you,” Dean clarifies after Sam gives him a hard time.  “Plus, it’s freakin’ nice out, dude.  Have few beers and hang out.  And I’ll need a hand with the bumper.”

Sam concedes after thinking it over.  “Yeah.  Ok.”  He gets up from the cot, marking his book and placing it in his former seat.  “Lemme grab some clothes to do work in.”  Sam heads up to the second floor as Dean walks for the kitchen, Bobby nodding at him with a shocked look as he makes his way through.  He knows Bobby’s impressed that he got Sam to stop his constant research.  Hell, Dean’s pretty shocked too.

He continues through the kitchen and opens the basement door.  Halfway down the steps Dean can hear a voice.  Is that singing?  Better yet, can that sound be considered singing?  It’s terrible and so off key it practically hurts.  Dean pauses in mid stride and holds his breath as he waits and hopes to take in another off-key earful. 

“Here comes the showdown.”

He removes his heavy boots and leaves them on his current step before continuing downward with sock-covered feet in the hopes of remaining hidden.  Once at the bottom, he’s glad he didn’t make his presence too obvious.  He’d hate to have ruined the absolutely spectacular show playing out in front of him.

“I don’t really want to be a tease,” Lizzy sings, not a care in the world as she works.  “But can you undo my zipper please?”

Dean’s eyebrows fly high as he finally takes in the display along with the words she’s trying to sing.  She has her back to him and apparently isn’t aware of the eyes that are now glued to her, which is more than fine by him.  Dean plans on keeping it that way for a little longer so he can enjoy this.  While wearing only a black, thin strapped tank and hot pink cotton panties that frame her ass in the most perfect way, Lizzy is pulling out clothing from the dryer while dancing in place, her hips gyrating to the music.  Her body is just as good as he’d imagined the night before.  With earbuds planted firmly in place, the music must have drowned out any noise Dean had made on his way down.  And thank God.  Watching her movements he could swear that she was carrying on like this just for him.  And she really knew how to move.  Going in for a better view, he slowly advances to the wall opposite her so that he’s still out of sight.  This is all confirming for him that staying at Bobby’s for the next few days was without a doubt the right decision.

“I’ll let you touch me if you want.  I see your body rise, rise.  And when you come, don’t get too hot….”

Hell of a song, Dean thinks.  Lizzy bends over a few times to reach into the dryer for more items and every time Dean gets an even better glimpse of her curves. 

“I dare you to stand in my way.  Just give in when you are ready to play.  Like this.  Here comes the showdown.  What goes around comes ar… Jesus Christ!”

Lizzy spots Dean propped with his back against the wall, his arms and legs crossed casually, out of the corner of her eye.  She jumps a mile when she snaps her focus onto him.  She pulls the earbuds out of her ears and clutches her chest as her heart pounds.

“Holy shit, you scared me!” she yells at him.

“Sorry.”  He’s beaming from ear to ear. 

“How long have you been there?”

“Not long.  I just didn’t have the heart to stop you,” Dean explains, the wide smile still planted on his face even though he’s less than happy she stopped.  “I found a couple more things I was hoping to throw in if I’m not too late.”

“Yeah, no problem,” she sighs as she recovers from the shock.  “I just threw both of your stuff in a minute ago.  Fuck, my heart is racing still.” 

Lizzy reaches for the shirts and Dean hands them over.  She snatches the clothing out of his hands and gives him a look.  “So you really do have a pervy streak, huh?”

He looks at her with amusement.  “I didn’t do anything.  _You_ did.”

“You were watching me,” she points out.

“What’s the harm in that?” Dean gives her an innocent look.

“Voyeurism could be considered pervy,” Lizzy lets him know lightly.  “And I should say sorry to you for having to hear that.  I’ve been told I’m tone-deaf.”

“You?  Nooooo….” he patronizes.

“Shut up,” she laughs.

“You have the voice of an angel,” Dean sarcastically tells her, joking far too easily with her.  “I don’t know what you were just singing but it might be my new favorite song.”

“Just listening to my girl Britney.”

Dean’s smirk fades into a frown.  “Spears?”

“The one and only.”

“Then I take it back,” he says with a disgusted face.

“Don’t you dare hate on Britney!” she gets offended right away.  “I love her.”

“How!?” Dean wonders with a total loss.

“There is nothing wrong with some dancey, slutty fun every now and then.”

“Ok… fair enough, I guess,” he responds with disappointment before realizing something.  “Wait, so you like AC/DC, Zeppelin, Doors… and Britney Spears?”  She laughs at his point.  “One of these things is not like the other.”

“Haven’t you ever been told that variety is the spice of life?” she wonders as she pulls open the washer and tosses his clothes inside.  “Rock is my main choice but now and then some easy, thoughtless music is just as good.  It’s just easy.”

Dean gives a skeptical look.  “Easy will rot your eardrums.”

“Well excuse me.”  She shoots him a look that says she’s annoyed that he can’t see it her way but it doesn’t matter.  She’s having fun talking to him.

“So, L,” he moves on.  “You usually do housework while singing in your underwear, or is that just for me?” 

Lizzy rolls her eyes at Dean’s lame suggestion.  “That was lame, Winchester.”

“I make lame look good.”  He shrugs it off.

She stops and looks him over.  Quietly she tells him, “Yes you do.”

He didn’t expect that.

“And L?” she keeps going.  “Is Lizzy too long for you to pronounce?”

“I prefer one syllable,” Dean jests.

“Ha, ok.  Well, I do usually listen to pop music while doing chores.  For me it makes them go by faster.”  She then looks down at herself.  “The underwear, though, I don’t usually do.  I realized once I was down here that my jeans had some, dirt from the last salt and burn on them so I threw them in the washer.  It wasn’t until they were _in_ the washer that I realized I was stuck without pants for a while.  I was going to hide out down here until something was ready that I could throw on but I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“Well I really don’t think anyone upstairs would mind.  And I certainly don’t.”  Dean’s actually surprised at how comfortable she is wearing next to nothing in front of him.  Then again, looking like that she should be comfortable, he thinks.  She’s in incredible shape, which is one of the perks of the job.

“Didn’t think so,” Lizzy giggles.  She begins folding some of the clothes that she’s pulled out of the dryer.  “So Lou and I were going to head into town in about an hour.  We wanted to get some cleaning supplies for the house and replace the whiskey we drank on Bobby last night before maybe checking out the vintage store on 18th.  You have anything you need us to pick up?”

Once more he’s surprised by her generosity.  “You don’t have to worry about us.  You’re already doing our laundry.  That’s more than enough.”

“It isn’t a problem.  Not like we aren’t heading that way anyways.  Just let us know” 

Light footsteps are heard rapidly descending down the basement steps right then.

“Lizard, any room for a couple more things?”  Lou reaches the bottom of the stairs and heads for her best friend.

“Sure, just pile it on,” Lizzy says exasperatedly while gesturing to the pile still waiting to be cleaned.

“Sweet,” Lou responds as she pulls her sweatshirt over her head and tosses it at Lizzy.  Then her arms disappear into her t-shirt and after a few seconds of maneuvering, she pulls her bra out of her sleeve before tossing that to Lizzy too. 

“Impressive,” Dean compliments.  He’s never seen that done before.  He should ask for some pointers.

“Oh, hey,” Lou startles as she turns around to see Dean against the wall for the first time.  “What’s going on, creepster?”

“Enjoying the show, I guess you could say.”

“Smart,” Lou says before turning to Lizzy.  “I’ll be ready in, like, five.  Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Lizzy confirms.

“Ok, good work out there, kid,” Lou jokes as she gives Lizzy a light smack on her ass before sprinting up the stairs bralessly.

Dean’s day, though sickness-filled and painful, has already been awesome.

Lizzy picks up a large pile of freshly folded clothes and heads to the stairs.  “I guess I better get going then.  We’ll be back around dinner time.  Hope you Winchesters are ready to put your drinking shoes on tonight!”  She heads up the stairs, still pant less and still shameless.

Even though the thought of drinking again make Dean slightly nauseous, he finds himself excited.  A night out will be nice.  Maybe he can even get Sam to have an honest-to-God good time for once.

He walks to the dryer to help haul some of the piles up since it’s the least he can do.  As he lifts a freshly folded stack of Lizzy's things he hears her feet pad across the study above him followed by the sound of Sam clearing his throat.  The he hears Lizzy’s flippant response.

“Afternoon, Gentlemen.”

He wishes he could see Bobby and Sam’s faces.

* * *


	3. Everyone has an Origin Story

* * *

“How could you not think he’s creepy for that!?” Lou asks with outrage as they look through the racks and racks of vintage clothing at their favorite store mid-shopping run. 

Lizzy laughs.  “It wasn’t creepy, I swear!  It was… kinda sweet.”

“A guy creeping up on you and watching you dancing around in your underwear was _kinda_ _sweet_?” Lou pushes her friend.  “Bullshit.  He’s a creeper.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lizzy gets annoyed with her, pulling a flannel shirt from the rack.  “He’s not a creeper.  He’s… cute.  And really, just… I don’t know.”

“I don’t trust him,” Lou says immediately as Lizzy holds up a red plaid shirt.  She immediately shakes her head no, somehow knowing it isn’t right.  “He seems like a manwhore.”

“We barely know him!” Lizzy gets upset, putting the shirt back.  “What’s with the judgmental shit, Louie?”

“I don’t know,” Lou shakes his head.  “He just worries me.”

“Why?”

“Because you like him,” Lou admits, heading to a new rack and pulling out a couple men’s t-shirts. 

“So?”

“He’s gonna be trouble.”

“How would you know that?” Lizzy keeps asking, thinking she’s nuts.

“He’s a fucking hunter, you dumbass,” she puts it all out there, pausing to lean over the rack and look Lizzy in the eyes.  “He’s never in one place.  He’s always roaming the country just like we are.  And if you think someone with a face like that and the ability to put on the charm like that isn’t gonna be trouble… then you’re stupid.”

Lizzy laughs a little.  “Ok, so he does seem pretty… easy.”

“Manwhore.”       

“ _Charmer_ ,” Lizzy puts it in better terms.  “But I think we don’t really know him yet."

“All the man did was hit on you mercilessly all night.”

“He was hammered….”

“He’s no idiot,” Lou stops her from defending him.  “And you… you let people in far too easily.  You know it.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes.  She’s so tired of the lectures.  “Louie, just because you’re older doesn’t mean you can act like my mom.”

“Someone has to think logically now and then,” Lou spits back.  “Instead of just thinking with their hearts.  This is why you’re always getting hurt by people.”

“So I should live like you?” Lizzy laughs.  “Never letting anyone in ever and being cold to people that don’t deserve it?”

“I haven’t cried over someone hurting me in years,” Lou tells her with pride as she pulls a green army jacket from the rack.  “Ooh.  Hey.”  She holds it up.

“ _So_ Dean,” Lizzy says business-like. 

“Totally,” Lou agrees and tosses it over to her friend, Lizzy catching it. 

“And crying isn’t the worst thing in the world,” Lizzy tells her.  “It’s human.”

“It’s bullshit,” Lou tells her, searching the racks again.  “Crying is for weak bitches.  We aren’t weak bitches.”

“Whatever you say,” Lizzy laughs it off, her opinions different from her best friend.

“Just, you know, watch yourself, Lizard,” Lou says, not looking at Lizzy.  “Don’t get hurt.  Just bang that hottie a couple times and move on.”

“You mean like you think you’ll do with Sam?” Lizzy asks, eyeing Lou knowingly.

“Oh my God!” Lou pauses to look to the ceiling with just the thought of the shy man.  “He’s killing me!”

Lizzy laughs hard at her for this one, knowing it was coming.  “You’re never gonna hit that.”

“Bite your tongue!” Lou scolds.  “I will and you know it.”

“Not this time,” Lizzy swears.  “He’s… he’s just not like that, Louie.  He’s so nice….”

“I know,” Lou says with desire.  “And I want fuck that niceness right outta him.”

Lizzy laughs full out at her friend.  “You’re awful.”

“Am not.”

“And you’re gonna scare the life outta that poor kid,” Lizzy warns.  “You better go easy on him, Louie.  He’s a good guy.”

“Hey!  I’m a good girl,” Lou tries to fight but the look of sheer disbelief she gets in return makes her sigh.  “Ok, so I’m not.  But he needs someone to open him up a bit.”

“He does seem to have quite the stick up his ass,” Lizzy comments as Lou holds up a different flannel.  She nods her head to give her definite yes. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to get him naked and pull it out for him,” Lou says, wagging her eyebrows.

“And you wonder why most men run away terrified from you….”

“Only real men can handle me, honey,” Lou smirks.  “Sam’s a real man.”

“He’s a lost kid,” Lizzy rebuts.

“When I find out which it is… I’ll let you know who’s right.”

“Evil bitch,” Lizzy shakes her head as she picks through the rack a little more.  She comes upon one particular t-shirt and pauses with a bright grin.  “Perfect.”

* * *

The local classic rock station is playing softly on an old battered radio, the music drifting through the September air, and a couple of open beer bottles are resting on top of the damn near antique cooler that Bobby always has at his house.  All the tools they need are spread out on the gravel and dirt driveway and the afternoon couldn’t feel more relaxing and calm.

This must be how normal people spend their days off, Dean envisions.  Quietly basking in the laid-back tone of the day.  No worries.  They’ve both been working on the Impala for several hours now, getting most of the under-the-hood tasks done already.  All they had left was the bumper and that was not going to be easy.  The deer he’d hit in Ohio really did a number on it. 

“Fucking Bambi,” Dean gripes out loud as he unscrews the last bolt holding it on.  “Sam, help me get the bumper off.”

Dean is happy to distract Sam from his research with some well-deserved beers and car work.  For the first time in a long time they found themselves talking to each other, and not about Yellow Eyes or one of their hunts or loss or pain.  Instead they reminisced about the good times they had growing up (however few they had), what they were doing with the car, and the mystery behind the girls they were staying with this weekend.  Dean was grilling Sam for information on them at this point, anything Sam might have learned while he was either passed out or hung over.

“So, they grew up together?” Dean asks.

“Ah, yeah,” Sam replies while lifting the bumper with Dean and placing it on the ground and recalling everything he got out of Lou at breakfast.  “Lizzy moved next door from Lou when they were eight but their parents became friendly before they were even born.  Lizzy’s mom and Lou’s dad worked together for decades.” 

“No wonder they act like sisters,” Dean says within a grunt as they place the bumper on the gravel.  “They practically are.”

“Definitely,” Sam agrees, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans.  “They grew up together.  I mean, dinner at each other’s houses and shared holidays even.  And I get the feeling Lizzy is an only child while Lou told me she has a brother but I get the feeling she’s not very close to him.  I also think Lou’s parents are dead… or at least that’s how Lou made it sound.”

“I don’t think Lizzy’s parents are alive either,” Dean adds in.  “She told me she was sorry to hear about Dad earlier and then said something about knowing how it is to lose both parents.” 

They both look at each other, thinking the same thing. 

“I mean, there’s got to be a story there, right?” Sam asks, thinking logically.

“Would make sense if they grew up that close, right?”

“Definitely,” Sam agrees, lost in thought.  “I think they’re from Massachusetts, maybe the Boston area?  I mean, the Red Sox t-shirt, the accents…” 

Dean knows this is all making Sam itch to get to his computer and research these women.   

“Seems like it.”

“And I know Lizzy went to college for a while in Massachusetts somewhere.  Lou went to Berkley in Boston.”  He pauses for a moment, wheels still turning. 

“Look, Sam, I think we should just let them tell us on their own if they want to,” Dean suggests, not wanting to upset the female company they’re already all too lucky to have stumbled upon.  “They went through something so bad that they both became hunters together so I don’t think pushing for info is a good idea.  No one wants to talk about that shit.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods, realizing how right his brother is.  “Yeah.  You’re probably right.  I’ll leave it for now.”

“Good.  So,” Dean says, changing the subject.  “That Lou… she’s cute.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods absently, walking for his beer and pulling down a long sip.

“Got a smoking little body on her,” Dean keeps pointing out, whistling for effect.  “And those lips… dude.”

“What’s your point, Dean?” Sam asks, knowing where this is going.

“I’m just thinking, you know… last night, did you two have a chance to get to know each other any better?”  Dean has a devious smile plastered across his face. 

Sam just rolls his eyes.  “No, Dean, I did not have sex with a girl I just met last night.”

“Why the hell not?” Dean gets frustrated right away with his brother’s negative vibe.  “Sam, what’s the point of living with two hot chicks if you aren’t going to have some fun with them, huh?  And I know for a fact that Lou is interested.”  The last part was a lie, of course.  Dean has no idea if Lou’s interested but sometimes Sam just needed a little brotherly push to get him going.

“How do you know?” Sam says with surprise, eyes shockingly hopeful looking. 

“Dude, you’re good as in,” Dean keeps lying, grabbing his own beer and sipping it, hiding his obvious mistruths.

“Huh….” Sam nods, thinking it over.  He thought she was awful cute.  But she’s harsh.  And very sarcastic.  And really, she can be mean.  But she’s very cute….

“Yeah, huh.  You need to get on that, dude.  You could really use it.”

 “What does that mean?” asks Sam, offended.  The bitch-face is back. 

“Seriously?  You don’t think you could use a solid romp in the sack?” Dean challenges, knowing how right he is.

“That’s nice,” Sam bites right back.

“I mean, come on Sammy!  You need to enjoy life now and then.  In our line of work, we could be gone tomorrow.  Live a little.”  Dean recognizes how much his words of wisdom mirror what Lizzy had said to him the night before.

Sam’s face stays ridged and serious despite deep down agreeing a little.  He hates that Dean’s practically pimping him out to a stranger but in the long run all they ever know are strangers.  And he is intrigued by the bold and brash woman.

Bobby saves Sam’s ass right then when he exits out of the side kitchen door and makes his way towards the brothers.  “How we doing out here, boys?” he asks while reaching into the cooler and cracking open a beer.

“Not bad,” Dean answers while stepping back and looking over his girl.  “I got the maintenance stuff out of the way.  Oil change, tune up, the usual.  Just have the bumper left and my Baby’ll be back to her pretty self again.”

“Good,” Bobby remarks before taking a seat in a lawn chair by the car.  He then clears his throat, knowing he needs to speak to them for a moment.  “I wanted to talk to you boys for a minute about Lou and Lizzy.”

The boys glance at each other, then put down their work and take a seat, Dean on the now closed Impala hood and Sam on the cooler. 

“Sure, Bobby,” Sam says to him as they settle in.  “What’s up?”

Bobby sighs a bit, his heart hurting already over the story he has to tell.  These girls have become important to him over time and their tale isn’t a happy one.  “Look, I’m not sure if it’s my place to tell you everything that happened to these girls but I feel I have to let you know anyways.  They’ve been through some rough shit and I want to make sure you two understand where they’re coming from.”

“We’ve all seen plenty of shit,” Dean reminds him.  “Can’t be any worse than what we’ve all seen.”

“Don’t matter.  It ain’t a contest.”  Bobby looks down at his beer.  “I first ran into the girls in 2003 in their hometown a bit south of Boston.”

“Knew it,” Sam prides, having nailed the Boston thing.

“I’d caught wind of a lower-level demon in the area and brought Rufus with me to check it out.  There was word out that it was after some old pendent, a powerful occult object that’s supposed to hide the wearer from evil… or hide evil from good, depending on who had it.  It was called The Hand of the Etruscans and it looked kinda like a hand without a thumb and some ancient carvings on it.  There was a jade stone in the middle, supposedly the center of its power.”

“So if this thing was just another no-name demon, why would it bother going after something like that?” Dean inquires, confused.

“Well, the thought is that it was trying to eke its way from minion to something higher up on the chain of command.  It’d been known to go after spells, books, items, anything that could help it gain more power.  Had quite the blood trail in its wake already.  Rufus and I figured we could handle the case on our own since, from what we knew, it hadn’t been all that juiced up yet.  The thing was still powerful enough, though.”  Bobby takes a long draw from his beer before continuing.  “Lizzy’s mother was the last known owner of the Hand.”

“Jesus,” Dean complains, seeing where this is going already.

“You said it, man,” Bobby sighs out.  “Cathy’d picked it up at a vintage store on a whim.  They were selling the pendant on a chain as a necklace.  Her mother thought it would make a unique present for her daughter’s birthday coming up and sent it to Lizzy in a birthday package while she was away at college.”

“Does Lizzy still have it?” Sam hurriedly asks, the fear deep in his gut.

“Nah, I made sure she got rid of it.  I don’t know what she did but she assured me that after the whole ordeal was over she’d handled it and that it wasn’t in anyone, or anything’s, possession.”

“Good,” Dean affirms, feeling better.

“The demon had tracked down the Hand to the store that sold it and figured out who the buyer was and where they lived,” Bobby keeps on.  “It broke into Lizzy’s house in the middle of the night and went after her parents in their sleep.  It attacked them something vicious… and they didn’t survive.  Once they were out of the way it couldn’t find the pendent in the house since it was already sent off to Lizzy.  The next morning she got a call from the police informing her that her parents had passed and she and Lou came home immediately.  Lizzy had to make all arrangements as she was their only kid.  Even had to identify the bodies.  It wasn’t pretty.  Her parents were in gruesome shape and no kid should have to see that.  ”

“Shit, Bobby,” Dean interjects, his words filled with anguish.  He looks down at the gravel out of sympathy.  He knows exactly how she must feel.

“Luckily, she had Lou and Lou’s family to help her.  They took Lizzy in during this time, trying to give her support and some semblance of a home.  They were good people and Lizzy was like their second daughter.  They were all close.” 

“Oh God,” Sam says when he gets it.  “The demon didn’t stop there, did it?”

Bobby looks off for a second before returning.  “No it didn’t.  It stuck around town and did its research. It discovered that the people it’d killed had a daughter and correctly assumed she had it.  It found where Lizzy was staying and slipped into Lou’s house while everyone was sleeping.  Lou’s parents heard something in the house and left their room to investigate.  They came face to face with a black eyed intruder.”  He sighs hard.  “Rufus and I were outside casing the joint when we heard the screams.  Didn’t get inside in time to save her parents.  Rufus took care of the demon as I got Lizzy, Lou and her little brother out of the house.  While I was trying to get them all out the girls both saw the demon and what it’d done to Lou’s parents.  They saw its eyes.”

“So you told them about the things that go bump in the night and they began fighting the good fight?” Dean questions.

“Over time, yes.  It took a while for them to mull over everything once they knew but in the end both those girls couldn’t do the whole normal life thing knowing what was out there.  They were both orphaned and very angry.  I tried like hell to keep them out, convince them that they needed to move on and live their lives, but once you know what kind of evil exists behind the veil… it’s hard as hell to ignore.”

“Yes it is,” Sam agrees.

“They actually came out here off and on for a year once they decided to take on this wonderful lifestyle,” Bobby continues sarcastically.  “If they were going to become hunters they were going to be damn good at it if I had anything to say about it.  I trained them best I could, taught them all the tricks of the trade I thought important for them at the time.  Lou is a hell of a shot.  If she’s got a gun in her hands then she’s good to go.  And Lizzy, she took to fight training.  Hand-to-hand stuff.  She’s really smart in a fight.  Real quick too.  And with her temper… I’d watch myself if I were you.”  He finishes his last statement while looking at Dean.

“Ok….” Dean says, trying to brush off the statement.  “So, why is it we are just hearing about these two chick now?  I mean, I know you’ve been telling them about us this whole time.”

“That ain’t obvious to you?” Bobby asks and gets a return of two very blank faces.  “Those poor kids have been through enough in their young lives.  They don’t need you two idjits adding to it.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but shit-storms have a tendency to cling to you like slop on a pig.  Those girls don’t need to get pulled any deeper.  I keep them on the easier hunts, nothing too crazy and no demon action if possible.  I don’t want….”

The three men look down the driveway as they hear a car turn into it.  Lizzy’s silver 2003 Toyota Matrix starts coming up the gravel road towards them as Bobby finishes his statement quickly as their time for this conversation is up.

“I don’t want those sweet girls dragged into the ass-deep crap you two tend to get yourselves into, you hear me?”

They both nod in agreement and end the conversation there.  They fully understand.  Their hunting is more involved, to the point of there being no return from it all for them and they know that.  Lizzy and Lou don’t need that kind of danger and pain.

The girls have the windows open, the air getting crisp with the looming fall but not too cold just yet, and Dean’s pretty sure that ‘Burning for You’ could be heard for miles as it’s blasted from the car’s speakers.  Lou gets out of the passenger seat, gives them a friendly wave and smile, and heads to the trunk.  Lizzy jumps happily out from the driver’s side and without turning off the music, she points to Bobby and starts lip-synching the song to him. 

_Burn out the day. Burn out the night._

Dean and Sam both start smiling as Lizzy continues, the action not one they were ready for.  She’s goofy.  Hunters aren’t normally goofy and they don’t normally goof around with the likes of Bobby Singer, grouch extraordinaire. 

She starts dancing towards Bobby while kicking up the dirt under her burnt-tan cowboy boots as she does.  Her hips are swaying a lot like Dean had seen earlier in the day and damn do her legs look fantastic in her cutoff denim shorts.  Her scoop neck t-shirt reveals just enough of her chest and to say Sam and Dean aren’t being a couple of red-blooded men while watching her would be a lie.  They’re fully appreciating the light-hearted fun and the display she’s putting on, Dean more obviously than Sam of course.

And Bobby looks plain unimpressed.

_I can’t see no reason to put up a fight.  I’m living for giving the devil his due._

Once she reaches the eldest hunter, Lizzy drops down and sits across Bobby’s lap, her legs hanging over the arm of the lawn chair.

_I’m burning, I’m burning, I’m burning for you._

Lizzy’s pointing at him while singing.  She takes his old trucker hat and pops it onto her own head playfully.

_I’m burning, I’m burning, I’m burning for youuuuuuuu._

“Put it back, woman,” Bobby demands with a dangerous edge, his eyes narrowed at her with a total lack of impression for her ways.  He knows her well enough.  Lizzy always did crap like this and he’s just used to it.

“Looks better on me,” Lizzy mocks, knowing it’s totally untrue. 

“Come again?” Bobby counters right away, calling her out on the lie. 

“It would totally kill you to have fun for a second, wouldn’t it?” Lizzy asks and she gets the same serious face returned to her.  “Right… it would.  So Louie and I checked out that awesome vintage store today, you know the one run by Sandy?  The cute, fun, and really sweet woman I told you about last time we visited.”  She has a mischievous smile on her face.

“Not interested.  Gimme my hat back,” Bobby demands, now irritated. 

“Hopeless,” she says while replacing the hat to it’s usually place.  “Your loss, Bobby.  She’s a hottie.”

“Hey Bobby!” Lou greets as she jogs towards him, a brown bag in hand.  “Since we drank all your booze last night we decided to replace it.  I hope this is a brand you like.”  She hands the bag over to Bobby as Lizzy stands up off of him.  They both watch delighted, bouncing on their heels, as he pulls the bottle from the bag.  Bobby looks down at it silently for a moment, registering what it is exactly in his hands, before finally speaking.

“Damn.  You girls really didn’t have to do that.”  The 16 year old Lagavulin was much more than Bobby had expected.  “I’ve only had this stuff once before and I thought I was lucky at the time to have that one glass.  This stuff is excellent.”  He runs his hand along the label. 

“We drink your booze all the time, Bobby,” Lou shrugs.

“But I’m fine with that,” Bobby reminds them.  “You ain’t taking more than what I offer.”

“True, but… I don’t know.  You’ve been great to us and you deserve something nice every now and then,” Lou says, knowing for sure Bobby lets himself have very few good things in life despite deserving so, so much more.

“We also know how little thanks hunters get so…thanks, Bobby,” Lizzy obliges.  “For, you know… _everything_.”  She and Lou both lean down and plant a small kiss on each one of Bobby’s cheeks. 

Dean and Sam find themselves a little overwhelmed by the kindness they display.  They both know all too well that Bobby deserves some thanks now and then and they begin to feel slightly guilty.  Being around these two women is making them slowly realize how ungrateful they can sometimes be, even after Bobby has taken them in as his own.  They owe him.

“Thank you, girls,” Bobby says with all sincerity while standing and giving each a hug.  “This was way too much.  You shouldn’t be spending money like this.  It’s not like you have much of a chance to make money on the road.”

“Nah, I called my uncle back home before I bought anything,” Lizzy explains.  “He’s been investing my inheritance for me and it’s gone really well, so no worries.  We can afford this.”  She then heads back towards the car.  “We can also afford everything else that is jam packed in the car right now.  You strapping men care to help bring everything in?”  Lizzy nods to the boys.

“Sure,” Sam affirms, getting up from his seat and walking towards the car.  Dean follows and opens one of the back doors to start unloading things. 

“Ooh, pizza,” Dean proclaims when he sees the stacked boxes sitting in the back seat.  He’s starving and the delicious smell coming from the three large boxes he finds is making his stomach grumble.

“Yes, pizza,” Lou returns with slight disappointment.  “We didn’t have time to make dinner tonight like we’d hoped since we’re just getting back now and it’s already seven.  We plan on making a huge dinner tomorrow night, though.”

“Works for me!”  Dean opens the top box and pulls out a slice.  He takes a big bite before getting caught by Lizzy.

"Hey!”  She punches him in the arm.  “No pizza until you help unload the car.”

“Ow!” he shout with angry annoyance.  It actually did hurt.  She’s stronger than she looks. 

“Where’re your manners?” she asks him with a slight smile.

“Where’re yours?” he mumbles out with a mouth full of pizza.  He drops his bitten slice on top of the boxes, picks the stack up, and heads into the house. 

* * *

After a few trips they get everything out of the car and into the kitchen, which is now filled with bags and items, the two women having gone overboard.  They sort through everything as Dean, Sam and Bobby eat pizza at the kitchen table. 

“So we stocked up on beer for the weekend.  Two thirty racks should do it, right?” grins Lou.

“I think that should more than do it,” Bobby retorts, eyes rolling as he’s not ready for drunken kids all over his house for a few days.

“I also got some tequila and whiskey so Bobby’ll be all set for a long time with whatever we don’t manage to drink,” Lizzy follows up with.  She then looks to Sam and Dean with nerves, ready to admit her secret doings.  She took a chance with this and hopes they’ll be accepting of it.  “Also… um, I hope you guys don’t mind but when I was doing your laundry this morning I realized that your clothes were in deplorable shape.  I mean, holes, tears, blood stains… my God, what have you been doing?”

“Work,” Sam answers succinctly through his mouthful, knowing it was explanation enough.

“Right,” Lizzy smiles and nods, getting it.  They were in deep, she knew that, but their clothes told the true story.  “Well, after seeing your wardrobe… I may have decided to take it upon myself to throw away some of your t-shirts and all of your socks and underwear.”  Lizzy then waits with a pensive face, chewing at her bottom lip as the two look at her unsure of what to say.

“Great.  I preferred going commando anyways,” Dean caustically whines to her, knowing that they didn’t have all that much and they need what little they have.

Lizzy smiles a little, ready to let them know her solution to this problem.  “Relax, Dean.  You won’t be going commando.  You can wear these.”  She holds up four plastic shopping bags from a generic local department store.  “New socks.  New t-shirts.  And, of course, new undies.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks, hazel eyes wide as he stares at her with shock.

“Yeah.  I mean, I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds here.  I just couldn’t let you live like that.  It was fucking terrible.”  She hands them the bags across the table, two for each man, and smiles kindly.  “There’re even a few pairs of wool socks in there.  They’re _awesome_ in the winter, especially for hunts that keep you outside for a while.”

The brothers continue looking at Lizzy without saying a word, plastic bags on the table in front of them and blank faces in place.  Lizzy begins to shift uncomfortably with their lack of response..

“Shit.  I screwed up, didn’t I?” she finally grumbles.  “Guys, I’m sorry.  I totally should’ve asked first.  I mean, I don’t even know your sizes and everything.  Some of it might not even fit right….”

“L?” Dean tries to stop her but she doesn’t.

“I thought this was a good idea.  I’m sorry…”

“It was,” Sam finally pipes up and she actually listens.  “It was a _really_ good idea.  And really generous, actually.”

“We just didn’t expect it, that’s all,” Dean adds in.

They can both see Lizzy’s fears start to fade away, her expressions always showing everything she’s feeling and thinking.

“Honestly, I can’t remember when anyone did anything this nice for either of us,” Dean explains further.  “We just aren’t used to it.”

Lizzy is wearing a wide smile on her face now.  She looks more at ease.  Dean finds himself having a vaguely familiar feeling of warmth that he hasn’t felt in so long.  The feeling of being taken care of is something foreign to them both and the last time Dean felt this he was with… his mother.  That can’t be right.  Has it been that long? 

“Hey, someone has to look after you two,” Lizzy laughs it all off, never comfortable with compliments and thanks.  “Plus, with everything we’ve learned from you two through Bobby’s stories?  We owe you guys big time!”

“Oh, Lizard.  Don’t forget these!” Lou interrupts while handing Lizzy a big paper bag.

“Shit!  Right,” Lizzy lights up.  She got distracted by the worry over their reaction to her tossing and replacing their things and nearly forgot about the rest.

Lizzy bends over to riffle through the bag on the floor.  As she does Dean lifts off his chair a little to check her out, knowing how good that ass looks when she’s leaning down already.  Sam immediately pushes him by the shoulder back down into his seat.  Bobby then adds to the silent reprimand and shakes his head no at the boy.  Dean knows they’re right.  Not the time.  He sits back down quietly and shrugs with a smirk at the two.

“We found some stuff at the vintage store for you both,” Lizzy tells them.  “For Sam, we found a really warm flannel and some t-shirts.  V-neck we assumed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam smiles and reaches out to take the items.

“Yeah.  We noticed you wore one last night and this morning… and right now, actually.”  Lizzy giggles and hands Sam the shirts with a chuckle.  The flannel had a large blue plaid pattern and the t-shirts were in three different colors; grey, dark blue, and black. 

“Thanks.  Wow,” Sam checks the shirts out, impressed that they could read his style so quickly.  They pay attention.

“I picked out the flannel,” Lou tells him and turns around from the counter, winking at him.  “Knew you’d like it.”

“Oh… uh,” Sam stutters a touch and gets nervous as she eyes him without shame.  “I do… good job.”

Lou just laughs at his response, thinking he’s just adorable.  “So cute.”

Lizzy watches as Sam’s cheeks heat up and Dean gives him a nudge in the shoulder, a silent ‘dude, she’s into you’.  She lets them have the moment and moves on.

“And for you,” Lizzy gestures at Dean before taking some things out of the bag, “I picked up this jacket.”  She tosses Dean a solid green, heavy army-style jacket.

“Nice,” he admires as he catches the jacket and quickly looks it over.  He then immediately puts it on to check it out.  “Awesome,” he then adds in when it fits him just right. 

“Lots of pockets,” she says to him knowingly.  “And it’s canvas so it should last you all of a year if you’re lucky at the rate you to go.”

Dean nods and pops the back of the collar as he usually does.  It suits him.

“And I also found this.”  Lizzy giddily holds up a black t-shirt to him and Dean reads the front out loud.

“AC/DC Highway to Hell Tour ’79 Crew.  Seriously?” he asks with bugged out eyes.  Dean is out of his seat and standing next to Lizzy almost instantly.  She hands over the shirt to the giddy guy.

“I couldn’t believe what good shape it was in,” Lizzy starts with a grin.  “It looks barely worn.  Must have sat in someone’s drawer for years forgotten.  Of course, I don’t know how you forget about a t-shirt that bad ass.  If it was in a size I could pull off you wouldn’t be getting that right now.”

Lizzy is smiling at Dean when he looks over to her.  He’s been at an almost constant loss for words since they got back from their trip, the generosity they’ve displayed is something completely unknown to them, especially from near strangers. 

“Thank you,” Dean finally manages, looking over the t-shirt again.  “This is awesome.  Damn.”  He looks over to Sam.  “This day’s been better than our last ten Christmases combined!” 

“Definitely,” Sam nods his head in agreement.

“Good!” Lizzy says loudly with happy pride.  “I’m just glad we got to make the Winchesters smile.  They look good on both of you.” 

Sam and Dean look at each other, seeing the huge grins they both have plastered across their faces.  Dean turns back to continue thanking Lizzy but something catches his eye behind her.

“What’s with all the apples?” he asks while Lou is hoisting the oversized paper bag of MacIntoshes onto Bobby’s kitchen counter.

“It’s fall, dumb-dumb,” Lou answers.  “It’s the best season for apples.  They’re delicious this time of year.  Plus, Lizzy’s gonna make a couple apple pies.  Her mom’s recipe is ridiculous.”

Dean drops his arms to his side and stares at Lizzy silently.  His face looks odd, serious and possibly like he’s about to cry.

“What?” Lizzy inquires nervously, not sure what’s going on with his sudden change of demeanor. 

Instead of answering, Dean wraps his arms around Lizzy. 

She’s completely confused.  “What’s happening here?” she asks Sam over the broad shoulder that is still holding her tightly.

“Ha, he’s just happy.  Lou said the magic word,” Sam replies with a grin that makes him look younger.

“The magic word?”

Sam nods.  “Pie.”

“I love pie,” Dean whispers into Lizzy’s hair.  He’s certain his heart is about to burst with joy over this afternoon.  They stay like this until Lizzy pries him off a minute later, knowing he wasn’t going to end the hug.

“Sorry,” Dean backs away bashfully.

“It’s fine.  You know, I feel the same way about cupcakes.”  She winks at him with a bright smile to put him at ease for his reaction.

“So, everything’s put way,” Lou breaks in, sitting at the table and reaching for a slice of pizza after being the responsible one.  She usually is.  “We have lots of food so everyone help yourselves.  I think Lizzy and I’ll go get ready for the night.  Then, if you three would like to join us, we are gonna head back into town and have some fucking fun.”  Her eyes light up with sheer excitement.

“I think I’ll let you kids have at it,” Bobby says wisely.  “You don’t want an old geezer with you all night.  Plus, I think I might be getting some calls tonight.  I better be here with my Lagavulin.”  He gives Lou a warm look of thanks.

“We wouldn’t mind the company of an old geezer, but we understand,” Lou tells him.  Then she turns to Sam and Dean.  “What about you two?  Up for it?”

“Definitely,” Dean quickly and emphatically answers.  “Sam and I will be there with bells on.”

“Sweet,” Lizzy says, obviously excited by that.  “Well, clean yourselves up and we’ll be ready to go, say nine o’clock?”

“Sounds good,” Sam answers, shockingly ready for a night off.  That isn’t usually his style but something about these girls makes him happy to do something as normal as drink and have fun. 

Lizzy piles four pieces of pizza on a plate and grabs a beer.  The girls then pick up some of their bags and head up the stairs to get ready. 

“Four slices?” Sam observes, shocked by the rather thin girl’s food portion. 

“She’s hungry,” Dean shrugs, not seeing the problem as he takes another massive, oversized bite of pizza.

“She’s always hungry,” Bobby grumbles.  “Eats me outta house and home every damn visit.”

“That’s it,” Sam shakes his head, surprised yet again with what he learns about her.  “Now on?  I’m calling her Deanna.” 

Dean just smirks, not minding that at all, and continues eating. 

“Watch out for them tonight, will you?” Bobby asks of the boys.  “When they start drinking… they can get pretty rowdy sometimes.”

“Rowdy, huh?” Dean smirks.  “I like rowdy.”

“You say that now…” warns Bobby, knowing better already.

* * *

 


	4. The Deep Burning Fire

* * *

The bar the girls choose is packed and it’s not exactly the kind of scene Sam and Dean are used to these days.  With the amount of young people who are sloppily meandering around it is immediately clear that this is a college bar.  Luckily, there are a couple pool tables and a live cover band, so Dean knows he can make it work and with Sam being the go with the flow type tonight he is fine with it all.  The two girls, on the other hand, appear to be right at home.  After several beers with a few shots here and there, the girls make their way onto dance floor while the guys emphatically decline to instead settle into a high-top table off to the side. 

A group of girls in far too little clothing for a cool fall night start hollering at the bar, getting Dean and Sam’s attention.  They watch as they all down bright pink colored shots and Dean huffs in annoyance.

“I hear one more drunk girl yell ‘whoo!’ I swear I’m gonna puke,” he grumbles out.

Sam laughs quietly at this.  “I’m sorry.  I thought drunk chicks were your favorite kind of chicks.”

“There’s different kinds of drunk, Sammy,” Dean starts to explain.  He points to the gaggle of girls.  “That’s desperate drunk.  Anything for attention and it doesn’t matter what kind.  Now, normally, yeah… I probably wouldn’t mind them at all.  Hell, I might be standing in the middle of them at this very point if it weren’t for….”  He pauses and points to the two girls they came to the bar with.  As the band tears into ‘Alright Now,’ Lizzy grabs Lou by the waist and starts dancing with her.  “Those kinda drunk chicks.”

Sam watches them move together for a second, giving a face to say he approves of them, before looking back to Dean, propping his head up in faux interest with an elbow to the table and fist under his chin, then asking, “And what kind of drunk chicks are they, Professor?”

"Professor?"

"Do tell," Sam asks with excitement that's all acting.

Dean smirks.  “They’re awesome drunk.  They hold their own.  They don’t ‘whoo’.  They can outdrink most men at this bar and they’ll do it without falling over or acting slutty.  They….”  He points them out again.  “Are awesome.”

Nodding, Sam agrees but doesn’t say it.  He’s conflicted.  Lou’s been trying awfully hard with him.  Hell, she even cornered him last night in the second floor hallway of Bobby’s place and propositioned him on night one.  Of course he declined since he isn’t that kind of person but… he was tempted.  He really was.  She’s really cute.  She’s just his kind of girl.  But she scares the daylights out of him.  She’s so aggressive and so harsh… he’s intimidated by all five feet of her.

And right then she chooses to look over to the table.  Sam and Lou lock eyes for a second and she grin wide at him, winking.  Sam gets awkward of course and looks away, shifting in his seat.

“Seriously, what happened here?” Dean wonders out loud to his little brother as his eyes remain trained on the girls.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, clearing his throat and composing himself.

“C’mon Sam, look at that.”  Dean aims the neck of his beer bottle at the women they were with and Sam joins his gaze. 

Lizzy has very short denim shorts on, a white cable knit sweater with scoop neck that hugs her tight, a red color scarf and her black moto boots on.  Her long hair is swaying side to side as she moves, her dark bangs covering her right eye.  Lou’s tight black denim pants are tucked into her knee high black boots with heels that, even though she’s the shorter of the two, make her a few inches taller than Lizzy.  She has on a low V-neck solid white t-shirt that is pleasantly revealing and her long blond hair is in two ponytails, loose and low with one on each side.  As they are watching, Lou grabs Lizzy’s ass and Lizzy uses her scarf to wrap around Lou and pull her in.  They laugh and continue dancing and singing loudly, not a single care in the world. 

“How did this happen?” Dean continues.  “If you haven’t noticed, we don’t get lucky.  Like, _ever_.  These girls, the time off, going out drinking and having fun _together_ …this isn’t us, man.”

“I know, you’re right,” Sam nods with total agreement.  Usually he’s in his room by now, looking for a hunt or keeping tabs on what could be Yellow Eyes’ activity.  He sees Dean huff with shock and shake his head a bit, unsure if this day is actually real or not.  This is all Dean wants out of life.  “I guess everyone catches a break now and then.”

“Not us!”  Dean denies takes a big gulp of beer.

“Usually, no,” Sam concurs again but he wants Dean to have fun and feel like he’s allowed to for once.  “But maybe we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth on this one, man.  Maybe we just go with it.” 

Dean is surprised to hear Sam say such a thing but he knows he’s right.  The more he thinks about it, the more he’s sure it’ll come crashing down any minute.  From the second he realized he might have a chance to hang out with these two girls he’s been waiting for something to happen that will tear them away from the little fun he’s managed to find in a long while.  But so far so good so why worry, right?

And from the way Lizzy cleaned up for their night out, looking hotter than ever, combined with the looks she’s been throwing him once she had a couple beers in her… hot damn.  He’s happy they stayed.

The band finishes their current song and goes into “We’ve Got Tonight”.  Both girls head toward the table.

“I’m doing a drink run.  Want anything?” Lou asks the group.

“Another beer,” Lizzy cheerily decides.  Dean signals with his hand for the same.

“I’ll come with you.”  Sam stands and Lou’s face lights up.  She waits for him and they head for the bar together.  Once there, waiting for service, Lou gives Sam the once over before landing on his eyes a good solid foot and a half over her own head.

“Having fun?” she asks, her predatory smile in place.

“Ah, yeah,” Sam nods, slightly regretting coming with her.  “I really am.”  She’s now got him to herself and he feels like a helpless mouse with a caged snake.

“Good,” she grins some more.  “You seem like you needed a night off.”

“We did,” he agrees with her. 

“You seemed… tense.”

"I did?” he asks with all the innocence in the world.

“Yes.  And you seem like you're  _always_ tense,” she laughs, reading him right away.  When he laughs a little back and shows her those dimples her heart skips a beat.  God damn, he’s just so stinking adorable.  “You know, I’m really good at getting people to relax.”

Sam’s mouth opens to answer but he can’t.  He’s taken off his game by how bold she is. 

“You just let me know,” Lou starts, sliding a hand over one of his denim covered cheeks.  “If you want me to help out, ok?” she smirks as she grabs his ass.

“Whoa!  Ha,” Sam stutters out, backing away the little he can at the crowded bar.  He looks around him awkwardly.  “Ok.”  He pulls her hand off his ass.

“We gotta loosen you up!” Lou laughs at him and turns to the bartender looking at her expectantly.  “I need four beers and two shots of tequila.”

“Oh, um….” Sam tries to protest but it’s too late.  The bartender is gone already.

“Sam?”

He looks down at Lou. 

“Fucking relax!”

The moment Lou and Sam are off Lizzy grabs Dean’s hand and grins at him, her deep chestnut eyes having a spark in them. 

“Let’s go,” she commands, attempting to pull him to his feet. 

“Mm,” Dean starts, killing the last of his beer.  “Where to?”

“I love this song,” she says and nods to the dance floor.

And Dean’s expression drops completely.  “No.”

“No?” she asks with shock.  “What do you mean _no_?”

“I mean no friggin’ way,” he half laughs and stays in his seat.  “I don’t dance.”

She smiles wide at him with a total lack of taking him seriously.  “Aw, it’s adorable that you think you have a choice here, Hot Shot.”

“Don’t I?” he wonders, starting to feel like he might not.

“You totally don’t,” she laughs at him.  “C’mon, it’ll be fun.  Just like the prom.” 

The words makes him cringe.  “Not helping your cause.”

“Hey, you wanna get on my good side or not?” she asks him and makes it clear that if he wants anything from her he’d better get moving.

He’s lost already, he knows it, so Dean stands and lets Lizzy lead him to the middle of the dance floor, his feet dragging behind him like a stubborn child.  Once they find a spot she stops and wraps her arms around his neck.  Lizzy moves in closer to him without hesitation, feeling all too comfortable with him. 

Yet Dean feels awkward at best.  “What the hell am I doing?” he wonders, looking around to see if anyone noticed him doing such a terribly uncool thing.

“Being a good guy,” Lizzy tells him with certainty as she grabs his hands and places them on her hip before circling his neck again.

_Deep in my soul.  I've been so lonely.  All of my hopes fading away._

“So what, I’m a good guy because I slow dance?”

“Absolutely,” she smiles up at him.

“Then I’m going Dark Side,” Dean gripes, horribly embarrassed.  “Being a good guy sucks.”

“What if I like good guys?” she wonders up to him and he looks at her with pleasant surprise.  “Trust me, Dean.  You’re earning brownie points and with me… you want those.”

_Still here we are.  Both of us lonely.  Looking for shelter, from all that we see._

“Oh, do I?” he asks, voice changing from concerned to slick in a flash.

With her hands sliding down to rest on either side of his neck she stares at him.  “You absolutely do.”

“I’ll take that as the promise I like to think it was.”

She just keeps smiling at him for a moment as they sway just slightly to the music. 

_Turn out the lights.  Come take my hand now.  We’ve got tonight babe, why don’t you stay._

“See?  This isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be, is it?” Lizzy questions after a moment. 

He can smell her shampoo, strawberries and vanilla.  It’s bright and beautiful, much like her he thinks.  And being this close to someone, well maybe specifically her, does feel pretty damn good right now… even if they were dancing.  “It’s… kinda nice, I guess.”  It was only a half-lie.  

“Don’t worry,” Lizzy laughs at him.  “I won’t tell Sam or Bobby.”

“Thank you,” he honestly thanks.

With an amused look Lizzy drops her head against Dean’s chest and they pull a little closer.  It’s comforting for them both, this being a closeness the road rarely affords them.  Something about it, about the way they seem to so easily speak to one another and how neither seems to stop smiling in the others presence… this feels damn good.

The song ends and another begins, much faster this time.  The band picks it up by playing ‘Bad Moon Rising’ and Lizzy lifts her head to look up at Dean once more.

“C’mon.  I won’t torture you and make you stay on the floor for this one.”

“Awesome.”  Dean’s elated that he wouldn’t have to continue.

They both head back to the table, Lizzy pulling him by the hand once more.  They see Lou and Sam chatting with fresh beers waiting.

“Hey!” Lou yells as she see them coming.  “A pool table just opened up.”

“Yes!” Lizzy exclaims, dropping Dean’s hand immediately and rushing to Lou.  She snatches up her hand and nearly yanks her off her stool.  “Winchesters, you are going down!” 

As the girls head off for the pool table both brothers look at each other knowing that the two women aren’t aware that they hustle pool to make the meager living they manage on the road.

“Should we let them win?” Sam ponders, asking in a light tone.

“Of course not,” Dean immediately denies.  “We’ll just go easy on them.  Make it a close game, you know?  Don’t wanna hurt their feelings.” 

* * *

It was decided that Sam was going to break first and he did.  However, he did it in his I’m-going-to-let-his-guy-win-the-first-game-then-go-double-or-nothing-and-make-a-killing-off-of-him fashion, not his poolhall-junkie way. Usually while hustling in dive bars around the country this is how he ropes people into a second game for much higher stakes.  Dean and he planned to make it a close game in order to not make the girls feel bad.

What they didn’t expect was to get their asses handed to them.

Lou went next and once she takes her first shot the Winchesters realize that maybe this was one of the hunters-on-the-road skills Bobby passed on to them.  Soon enough, it is down to Lizzy sinking the eight ball for the win.  Dean’s ego is about to take a massive hit as Lizzy leans over to line up her shot. 

“Watch and learn, bitches,” she announces with all the pride in the world and pulls the cue back.

Just as she finished her statement and is about to make her shot, a girl with bleach blond hair and a very short skirt squeezes herself between Sam and the table, trying to get his attention.  She sits on the corner of the table flirtatiously and blocks the corner pocket that Lizzy intended on using.  As the girl tries to strike up a conversation the fire in Lizzy’s eyes starts to burn.  Lizzy abandons her shot and stands up straight with an irritated face. 

“Hey!” Dean yells across the table trying to get the new girl’s attention.  He can see Lizzy’s agitated by the inconsiderate move. 

The girl ignores him and keeps her eyes on Sam as Sam looks to his group for help.

Dean looks at Lizzy and can see the anger growing in her.  Lou walks toward her and takes the pool cue out of her hand.  It’s obvious to Dean that Lou is taking preventative measures.  Being Lizzy’s best friend isn’t always easy and right now Lou can see what’s about to happen clear as day.

“Easy, Lizard,” Lou quietly says to her but she’s not heard.

“Yo, Barbie!” Lizzy shouts across the table.  “We’re playing a game here!”  The girl turns her head to give her a rude look.  Clearly she doesn’t care.  Lizzy tries again.  “You mind getting your fat ass that’s been stuffed into a skirt three times too small for you off the table so that I can take my shot?”

The girl laughs and turns back to Sam, not taking the threat seriously. 

Lou sneaks a look over at Dean at that point.  He takes it as a warning.  It’s about to get ugly.

“What the fuck!?”  Lizzy shouts as she marches to other side before Dean can grab her arm.  “Bitch, get off the fucking table!” 

And with that Lizzy shoves the girl off her seat on the pool table.  She falls hard on her side onto the concrete floor when Lizzy continues toward her.  She gets onto her knees, straddling the shocked girl, and pulls back a fist.  Sam steps in at the last second before the punch can be thrown.  He gets behind Lizzy and grabs her around the middle.

“Get the fuck off me, Sam!”

“Relax!  Lizzy, stop!”  Sam tries to get through to her. 

“I’m gonna kill her!” Lizzy yells at the scaredgirl on the ground as she kicks to get out of his hold.  Luckily Sam is strong.

“Hey!  Knock it off!” Dean stands in front of her and she stares daggers into him as she stops fighting Sam’s hold. 

She can see that she won’t win if Sam’s got her.  Once she stops flailing he puts her down.

“The hell were thinking!?” Dean asks her, taken completely off guard by her display.

She takes a deep breath and looks off to the side of Dean, seeing the girl she’s lost her temper over getting off the ground.  The anger returns.  “I was thinking…” she starts, figuring out her next move.  She side steps him and goes after the girl again.  “I wanted to beat her ass!”

“Ok,” Dean laments and grabs her quickly, once more around the waist much like Sam just did except he pins her arms by her sides to stop her from swinging again.  Lizzy kicks like before, trying to get free and get to the rude chick.  He pulls her out the side door and into the alley before he lets her go.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Dean shouts at her when she turns around to face him. 

“I was gonna win that game!” she yells back in an acrid tone. 

“ _And_!?” he asks, disbelieving that so much has come out of such a little moment.

“ _And_ if that slut wasn’t so busy trying bang your brother, I could’ve taken my shot!”

“What the fuck, Lizzy!?” Dean shouts when she’s appalling him.  “You can’t just fight people like that!  She didn’t deserve that!”

“ _Yes_ she _did_ deserve it!  I mean, who the fuck does that!?  So fucking rude!”

“So what!?  You can’t just beat a helpless girl up!”

“Oh, I can’t, dad!?” Lizzy spits back, his policing completely not his place in her eyes.

“ _Dad_?  Are you fucking kidding?” he shocks out.  Who is this girl?  She seemed so even and kind up until this very moment.  “Lizzy, seriously… you always pick fights like that over stupid shit?”

“I do when people act like assholes!”

“You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt!”

“Fuck that!  I would have killed that whore and you know it!”

“Not the point!”

“I don’t care!”

“Jesus, L, stop taking!” Dean yells when he’s had enough.  “Calm the fuck down a minute!”

The two, now out of breath from both the scramble in the bar and the whole shouting match, take a moment and try to compose themselves.  Dean turns away from her and washes the palm of his hand down his face, unsure of what to do, as Lizzy just puts her hands on her hips as the embarrassment settles in now that her adrenaline is waning. 

Lizzy already feels remorse and shame.  She likes this guy and look at the impression she just made on him.  She’s the angry, pissy chick that can’t control herself.   How attractive.  She wishes she could crawl under the nearby dumpster and just disappear.

“Sorry,” she meekly says after a good moment.  She watches Dean freeze with his back still to her when she speaks first.  “I just get crazy angry sometimes and I don’t… I let it out in the wrong ways, I know this.  I bottle it all up and then… boom.”  She makes a gesture of an explosion with her hands before releasing a heavy sigh.  “Louie’s gonna kill me”

“You can’t just start fights like that.”

Lizzy swallows hard when she hears the edge in his low, serious tone.  He’s mad.  When he turns around his eyes are dark and his expression is almost scary.

“Your job is to help people, not beat the crap outta them,” he continues.  “You can’t do that.  You can’t take your anger out like that.”

“I know.”  She suddenly feels like a child being scolded.  With more fear.  She’s only seen the smiling side of Dean.  This is frightening.

“Then why did you do that!?”

“I haven’t exactly found a way to get rid of anger that’s as effective as putting my fist through someone’s face yet,” she admits, the release she finds from a good fight usually perfect.  “But I know what you’re saying.  And you’re right.”

Dean is glaring at her, his jaw clenched.  She’s so flippant about the whole thing.  She doesn’t see how bad her careless actions are.  Why it’s affecting him so much and so deeply he isn’t sure but he can’t seem to control it. 

Finally, his blood boils over and he walks to her in long, quick strides.  He pushes her backwards until she is against the cold wall of the bar.  In one swift movement Dean has her pinned there, her arms by her sides as he presses his hands into the bricks on either side of her head.  Dean presses his hips into hers, making sure she’s going nowhere.  With no more than an inch between them she’s trapped there and has to listen.

Lizzy’s breathing quickens as she stares wide-eyed up at Dean with surprise.  The move was not expected.  She remains still, waiting for whatever it is he is going to do next as curiosity, fear, and a little shiver of turn on hits her.

“Listen to me,” Dean begins even and strong.  “I am _not_ joking around here.  You _can’t_ act like that.”

Dean sees the bewilderment in her face.  He hopes he’s getting through to her. 

“I don’t want you getting hurt.  You understand me?”

Lizzy nods her head so slightly Dean thinks he wouldn’t have seen it if he wasn’t so close to her.  As soon as she agrees, his lips crash against Lizzy’s with raw force. 

Lizzy responds at first by not moving, the sheer surprise of it all catching her off guard.  With her hunter training she was ready to fight him back, but this?  However, after a split second to realize what’s happening she goes with instinct.   Parting her lips, allowing Dean’s tongue access, she kisses him back without thought. 

And Dean’s not even sure what it is he’s doing right now.  He never thought this was his goal but once he got that close to her, saw her big eyes looking at him and her bottom lip shaking a little with nerves… he couldn’t stop himself.  He needed this.  He’s been dying for this.

Lizzy presses her hips into him when the kiss gets more heated, the turned on state she finds herself falling into in record time is strong.  Dean pushes right back when her hands come up to grasp onto the sides of his jaw, the fire building in him too.  There’s urgency there, as if they’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time even though they just met the day before. 

They get lost in it.  They get so lost that when the side door to the bar opens and the sound of the crowd and band fills the ally, Dean jumps a little and hastily pushes away from Lizzy.  His hand flies to his mouth to wipe off the lip-gloss that wore off on him. And Lizzy steps away from the wall, smoothing her hair down while her heart pounds.

“Hey.  You ok?” Sam calls to Lizzy with nothing but concern.

“Yeah.  I just needed a minute to cool off,” she responds, relaxing when they didn’t get caught.  Explaining the make out session that ended the shouting match would be hard to do.  She’s not even sure what the hell just happened. 

And neither is Dean.  He’s never acted that way before.  He’s total thrown off now.

“Thanks a lot, you asshole!”  Lou fires out as she marches through the side door looking upset.  “I told you I wasn’t going to have your back in fights anymore!  What was that!?”

Lizzy glanced sheepishly at Dean before looking back to Lou.  He was right.  She pulls this kind of shit all the time.  Dean’s anger begins growing again with the knowledge.

“I’m so sorry, Louie,” Lizzy instantly apologizes, the old Lizzy Dean’s come to know over the past twenty-four hours returning.  “Really flew off the handle there.”

“I could fucking kill you!”

“I know!  I really am sorry!”

Lou sighs hard, knowing that whatever she says it doesn’t matter.  This is what her friend has become over the years.  “You’re just lucky that it’s been months since you last pulled that crap.  That might have been a record for you, actually.” 

Lizzy relaxes.  “Shit!  I thought you were gonna punch me.”

With a slight smile Lou puts her arm around Lizzy’s shoulders and they begin walking out of the ally.  “I want to but I’m still trying to get into Sam’s pants,” Lou whispers to her and Lizzy giggles a little.  Lou then calls over her shoulder, “I think there was a dive bar around here somewhere, about a block away.  Want to head there?”

“Sure,” Dean answers sharply.  He and Sam follow the two a dozen feet back, Dean needing the breather from Lizzy.

“What was all that?” Sam asks, talking quietly so Lizzy can’t hear.

"She got angry,” Dean just shrugs.  “She’s just really pissed off about a lot of things, I think.  Came out all at once.”

“Huh,” Sam says, thinking aloud.

“What do you mean, huh?”  Dean gives Sam a defensive look.

“It’s just… you can relate.  Can’t you?”

Dean shoves his hands in his new green jacket pockets and keeps walking next to Sam.  His brother is right.  He does have a lot of anger and rightfully so with everything they’ve been through.  Death, misery, paranoia, sadness, loss, frustration; all a part of their everyday lives.  Sam always seems to handle it well enough, maybe because he’s always been the emotional one of the two.  He’s able to process emotions better.  Dean does exactly what Lizzy does.  He too bottles up everything, usually drinking or fucking it away when needed.  They weren’t smart or healthy options, but they were better than what Lizzy was doing.  He’s been known to pick a fight or two so he understands to a point.  But it isn’t a habit.  He knows better.  She doesn’t.

They walk silently as they follow the girls to the next bar.

* * *

 


	5. Promise Me

* * *

After another two hours of downing pints of beer and far too many tequila shots, it was decided that Lizzy would leave her car downtown and as soon as the bumper was back on the Impala Dean would give her a ride to get it.  No one is in driving shape, not even Sam. 

In fact, Dean’s been amused with his brother’s antics all night, singing along with the girls, taking every shot offered, even slurring a little.  It’s been a very long time since he’s seen drunken Sammy in a good mood.  He loved watching this goofy, messy, fun-loving version, the guy deserving the night out.

The cab ride home is… interesting. 

Dean opts for the front passenger seat the second the car pulled up to the curb.  After their alleyway confrontation he’s been somewhat avoiding Lizzy.   After shouting at each other and then finding himself actually kissing her he’s conflicted.  And worse, he knows Lizzy has noticed the change in his attitude.  She’s kept her distance once his sullen attitude crept in after the shouting match which may just be why his brother is such a mess now.  Without Dean to focus on, Lizzy’s love of taking shots was put onto Sam.  And Sam isn’t much of a shot taker.  Or a tequila drinker.

The problem now is that Dean’s anger never fully dissipated and, sitting in the cab with his thoughts, his animosity is coming back.  The thought that Lizzy might not have taken him seriously and was just saying what he wanted to hear was nagging at him.  For some reason he isn’t sure she _really_ heard him.  She seems too stubborn for that. 

He needs to talk to her again.

Lost in thought for some time, Dean realizes the previously loud cab, laughter and voluminous conversations filling it, has grown quiet.  Curiosity gets the best of him and he turns to look in the back seat.  Lizzy is against the window behind the driver, looking out and shying away from the two people on her right.  Lou had been in the middle seat, but not now.

Dean’s heart could have stopped when he saw it.  Lou is sitting in Sam’s lap, the two very sloppily making out as they make their way back to Bobby’s.   Dean blinks hard a few times, not sure if he’s seeing things or not.  No, his vision is fine.  Lou’s hands are on Sam’s neck and shoulder, Sam’s hands in Lou’s hair, and they’re going at it like teenage idiots.

Lizzy pulls her attention away from the passing scenery and glances over at her best friend with a smile.  Louie told her she’d get him while they were on their errands today.  She wasn’t playing around.

Lizzy then meets Dean’s eyes.  She immediately wags her eyebrows at him, her way of expressing her excitement over what was happening.  Dean shakes his head and gives Lou and his brother one last glance before turning back around. 

A few minutes later the cab reaches Bobby’s house.  Lizzy slaps at Lou’s boot to get her attention.  “Gotta come up for air, Louie.  We’re back.”

Lou and Sam both pull away from each other, eyes hooded and deep breaths taken. 

“Damn,” Lou jokes with a grin.  “I was having fun.”

“Me too,” Sam says, the haze of drunkenness making him easy going and shockingly carefree.

“Well, then let’s go have more fun,” she says with excitement.

Once the car stops, Sam opens his door and helps Lou out of the car.  Lou returns the favor by offering him her hand and as soon as he grabs ahold she yanks him up and into her.  Sam plants one last clumsy kiss on her lips while practically stumbling over before leading her to the kitchen door, hand in hand.  

“Well that’s new,” Dean comments while he pays the cab driver.

“No it isn’t,” Lizzy laughs, speaking only of her sister as she heads inside after them, Dean following as the cab driver thanks him for the tip.

Once inside Lizzy watches as Sam grabs two beers from the refrigerator.  He hands one to Lou but instead of grabbing the bottle, she grabs onto his forearm. 

“Couch?” Lou buzzes with the question.  She doesn’t give Sam a chance to respond.  Instead, she continues facing him, flirtatious look firmly in place, and walks backwards into the living room as she pulls him along with her.  The goofy grin Sam is wearing makes Dean appreciate Lou’s bold manner. 

“About God damned time, Sammy,” Dean huffs quietly to only himself.

“I’m going to get into some comfy clothes.  Be right back,” Lizzy announces to no one in particular. 

Dean watches as she bounds up the stairs.  Once more he’s conflicted.  She looks amazing, so damn good it nearly hurts… but he’s angry at her still. 

Forgoing figuring where his brain is at, he reaches into the refrigerator for a beer of his own.  Twisting off the cap, he takes a long sip before turning toward the living room.  Dean stops in the doorway when he gets a good look. 

Once again Sam and Lou are going at it, pawing at each other on the couch like their lives depend on it.   A sense of pride fills Dean’s heart as he walks away, not wanting to interrupt the two.  If they start getting naked he wants to be nowhere near that couch.

While he meanders around the kitchen, he makes the decision to go and talk to Lizzy now while she’s alone.  The whole thing had been eating him up throughout the night so now was as good a time as any to get it over with.  He puts his unfinished beer on the kitchen table and heads up the stairs. 

* * *

“Mm,” Lou hums as she kisses Sam harder, pushing his jacket off his shoulders with rushed movements.  “Lose it.”

“Lose… what?” Sam laughs a little, his drunken haze a lot thicker than he had realized. 

“The jacket.  Take it off.”  Lou tries again but Sam doesn’t move.  He’s still, just looking at her with glazed over, unfocused eyes.  She knows that look.  “Oh no.”

“W-what?” Sam asks, confused by her downer tone.

“You drank too much, dummy,” Lou calls him out as she sits back away from him, taking her own cushion as she faces him.  “This isn’t gonna happen.”

“No, no,” Sam says, not wanting to see the disappointed face on her.  “I’m ok.  It… it’s fine….”

“You’re slurring,” she lets him know, the smile on her face forced. 

“Don’t be mad,” Sam says like a child in trouble.  “I don’t like you looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like, like, just… not happy,” Sam says, sitting back into the corner of the couch while looking at the expression she’s wearing.  “You’re too n-nice to look like that.”

“I’m nice!?” Lou questions with huffed disbelief.  “You’re seriously drunk.”

“I’m a little drunk,” he slurs out in agreement.

“And you don’t know me.”

“I know you,” Sam says with nothing short of sheer truth.  “Lou, I know you.”

“How could you?” she laughs at him.  “We just met.”

“But I… I _see_ you,” Sam tries to explain in his liquored up state.  “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You.”

Lou pauses here before bursting out in laughter at his claim. 

And Sam’s face drops.  “Why is that funny?”

“Oh God,” Lou sighs while leaning into him and settling there, her back to his front.  She pulls his arms around her middle to get comfortable, the two cuddled together on the couch.  “Dude, no one knows who I am.  _I_ don’t know who I am.  It might just be Lizzy that sees what I am for whatever that’s worth.”

“You’re good,” Sam says as if he’s saying the sky is blue.  It’s fact.

“Isn’t every hunter?” Lou challenges, her tone of voice softening for the first time since the Winchesters arrived. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, but… I don’t know.  I just, just think you… put on a front.”  He’s sure of it.

“Why do you think that?”

“‘Cause you act mean when you aren’t.”  Comfortably, Sam leans his cheek down onto the top of her head and relaxes against her. 

“I _am_ mean,” Lou confirms for him.

“You make people _think_ you're mean,” Sam tells her, eyes closing with sleepiness.

“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Sammy boy,” Lou tells him.

“And you probably think I’m some uptight bookworm that hates fun,” Sam counters, pulling his arms tighter.  “But I’m not.  I mean… I, I am… but I’m not.”

“You proved that tonight,” Lou laughs, finding herself surprised by how at ease she is just sitting there, in the arms of a man she barely knows.  She doesn’t let her guard down an ounce but for him she’s let it down about two ounces worth.  “You got drunk… and you got fun.”

“I am fun,” Sam smiles.

“No… you’re totally not,” Lou giggle with that, knowing he normally is a wet blanket at best.

Sam laughs too.  “Ok, ok.  You and Liz… Lizzy made me fun.”

“We aim for that usually.” 

They sit together for a moment, silent and comfortable, until Lou gets curious.  “You never said why you thought I was nice.”

“‘Cause you took my last two shots for me when Lizzy wasn’t looking,” Sam easily answers, making Lou laugh hard.

* * *

Once at the top of the stairs and on the second floor landing, Dean notices the light shining out onto the hallway from the bedroom Lizzy and Lou were sharing.  The door wasn’t closed all the way. 

Nosiness getting the better of him, Dean quietly makes his way to the door and peers through the small sliver left open.  Illuminated by only the small, antique lamp by the bed he can see Lizzy standing in the same hot pink panties he had seen her wearing in the basement along with a black lace bra, nothing else.  She moves gracefully, even while simply rummaging through the piles of clean clothes Dean had put on her nightstand that afternoon.  Her dark strands are sweeping over her shoulders and right eye as her tongue is running along her bottom lip while searching for the right clothing to put on. 

It’s then that the more sordid side of Dean’s personality comes through.  The look of her, light yet smooth skin, soft curves, dark deep eyes… she’s amazing.  She’s exactly that and Dean’s never actually seen a more beautiful creature.  He knows it isn’t the booze talking, either.  It just sheer fact that she’s stunning.  And sexier than anything.  Desire takes hold and the sudden combination of anger at her actions earlier and lust for her in the state she’s in now presses him into action. 

Dean pushes the bedroom door open silently.  He steps through the doorway and closes it behind him, facing Lizzy the whole time.  The sound of the door clicking into place makes Lizzy jump.

“Shit!” she spins around to see him standing there alone.  “What the fuck is with you, Winchester?  You sneak up on people like this a lot?”

“No,” Dean answers with the short, singular word, his tone serious.

“Oh good, just me then,” she huffs a shocked laugh while still startled.  “Why me is it exactly?”

Like earlier in the day, she is clutching her chest in shock.  Dean doesn’t move and he doesn’t smile after catching her off guard this time.  He just focuses on Lizzy, his eyes never leaving hers.  After waiting for a response to her question and getting nothing, Lizzy’s eyebrows wrinkle in confusion.

“Ok, so… I’m just gonna change, so if you don’t mind….”

“Turn off the lamp,” Dean cuts her off demandingly, his voice low and his eyes darkening as he speaks.

“What?”  Lizzy wonders, looking at him with a million questions running across her face.  What is he talking about, turn out the light?

“Do it,” he says, speaking slightly louder this time. 

Now, ever since he walked in the door with the swagger of a champion and the looks of a fucking editorial model in street clothes she’s been wanting him.  And fiercely.  But this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind for a set up.

“Dean, I don’t….”

“Turn.  Off.  The lamp,” he tries again, repeating his words slower and with more emphasis to show how serious he is. 

After a quick couple seconds of contemplation, Lizzy walks cautiously to the lamp and turns the knob until it clicks off.  She’s highly intrigued despite fighting her want to speak back to him for telling her what to do.

“Go to the window,” Dean directs her and luckily she does as he asks, no argument. 

Once she stands there looking at him, waiting to see what it is he tells her to do next, the moon dimly fills the bedroom.  Dean can see Lizzy’s silhouette in the soft blue light, her curves beckoning for him to touch her, to feel her in his hands.  She’s unreal to him.

“Face the window.”  His feature soften a little as he blinks once, waiting patiently for her. 

Lizzy turns tentatively toward the glass panes, her heart racing a bit, and waits.  She doesn’t know what Dean’s up to but at this point she doesn’t have it in her to ever say no to him.  The way he’s speaking, all gravel and want, is making her insides turn to mush all too easily.  Never in her life has a man been able to do this to her without a kiss, a touch, an _anything_ really.    

Once she is there Dean pauses.  He has nothing planned out here, no strategy to speak of.  He’d been working on sheer urge and now that his brain has kicked in he begins to question his actions.  In the past Dean’s gotten kinky before, sure, but those women never meant much more to him than a couple drinks and a cheap motel for a night.  He never truly cared what they thought of him afterwards, but he cares what Lizzy might think.  Then again, he’s never before met a woman so in tune with him.  After getting to know her better he’s willing to bet she wouldn’t object in the least, but the uncertainty nags at him.  He’s torn from his thoughts when he sees Lizzy’s head turn to the side, searching him out.  Their eyes connect for a moment and he doesn’t observe fear or rejection from her, but instead curiosity and need, maybe even desire. 

His previous concerns are gone all at once.

Dean takes his time walking across the hard floor, his boots dropping loudly as he goes, until he is directly behind her, just inches away.  Lizzy’s shoulders raise a bit as she can feel him so close. 

Placing his hands gently along the sides of her hips, absorbing the feel of her soft skin under his calloused palms, he drags his fingers deliberately over her back, up across her shoulders and down her arms.  He stops when his hands close around her wrists and lift them.  He places them on the frame of the window as Lizzy links her fingers in his, making a connection he wasn’t going for but he certainly welcomes.  She proves that she is fully into this with that one move. 

Leaning forward, he brings his lips almost against her right ear.  “I need you to understand,” he roughly hums.  “You can’t act the way that you did at the bar.”

Lizzy’s breath hitches as he speaks softly but sternly, his body heat so close to her.  Oh God, is he turning her on right now.

“It was childish,” Dean tells her, hands still closed over hers.  “You’re not a child, are you?”

“I think you already know I’m not,” Lizzy pushes right back, not wanting to be called a kid in their current situation.

“Then you need to stop acting like one,” he scolds a bit, moving his mouth slowly behind her head to her other ear.  “And I need to know that you’re hearing me about this.”

“I am,” Lizzy swears, eyes closing when she can feel his warm breath on her neck. 

“I hope so,” Dean tells her seriously, pressing his fully clothed body against her back now.  “Because I don’t want to hear that you got hurt picking useless fights.  Save it for the real threats out there.”

He listens to her exhale hard with everything he’s doing to her right now.  He’s got her right where he wants her.

“So now I want you to say it.  Say you won’t go picking stupid fucking fights.  Say you won’t let your anger get the better of you.”

She hesitates when she can’t remember how to speak.  This is too much.  Shit.  Say something, Lizzy!  Tell him you’ll do what he asks before he stops whatever the hell this is!

“Come on, L.  Say it,” he tries again.  He needs to hear her say it before he goes on. 

“I won’t,” she sighs out.  “Dean, I won’t.”  Shockingly, she means it.  For whatever reason she desperately wants to listen to what he tells her.  She wants to make him happy.

“Again.  Promise me you won’t be so fucking careless.”  Dean’s right hand leaves Lizzy’s and trails down her arm with just his fingertips, moving feather light.

As the goose bumps rise on her skin she leans back into him a little, reveling in how fucking good it feels.  He then begins roaming around her body with his hand, making his way across her front and never staying in one place. 

“I promise,” Lizzy manages out in a breathless voice.  “I won’t.  Dean, I won’t, I swear.”

“Good girl,” Dean smiles to himself briefly for getting her to really listen to him.  Her promise calms him a bit, like she’d made it with the intentions to stick with it this time.  “I just want you to be safe.”

“I know… and I’m listening,” she says, turning her head to look right at him.  Eyes on his, she lets him know silently he’s getting through to her.

He takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss her.  She was so close and her lips looked so inviting… he’s been pulled to her from the second he first laid eyes on her.  And now that he has the chance to feel this again, to feel what it is to kiss her, he wonders how he made it the rest of the night after that first one.

“Damn,” Lizzy whispers mostly to herself when Dean ends the kiss, backing away just slightly.  The way she looks at him, eyes lax and slightly dazed, lets him know she felt it too. 

“Bar fights aren’t the answer.”  He continues, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks.  His wandering hand travels across her stomach, touching lightly still and making his way lower as he speaks.  “There are much better ways to let out the frustration and the rage you feel.”  His hand slides over the pink cloth covering her center.  “I’m gonna show you a better way.”

Lizzy lets out a long breath that Dean thinks she may have been holding in the second he touches her.  She melts back into him as his fingers so gingerly feel her through her panties.  Dean’s mouth comes down on her neck, covering her skin with his lips right under her ear and her knees grow weaker.  A quiet sigh creeps out from deep inside of Lizzy.

“Oh, God,” she huffs as his tongue runs along her collar bone. 

Both of Dean’s hands find her hips and he slips his fingers under the pink fabric pulled tight against her at her sides.  Slowly, he moves his hands down her thighs, continuing past her knees and dropping to her ankles, never letting his palms lose contact with her long, smooth legs. 

“Step out,” he tells her as he takes a knee on the floor.

Lizzy instantly listens with zero hesitation, stepping out from her panties one foot at a time.  Dean then stands back up, the underwear clutched in his hand, and looks her over.  God, what a fucking ass on her!  Perky and round, just big enough to be way too much fun.  He takes a silent moment to look and appreciate, swallowing around a dry mouth and throat.  She’s… wow.

“Mm,” Dean hums deep when he steps forward into her again.  His hands come around to her flat, toned stomach and pull her back into him.  He lets one hand make its way up her front until he comes to her neck.  Pushing her head lightly to the side, she turns enough to meet his eyes again.  “Just as good as I imagined.”

“You were imagining me?” Lizzy wonders quietly, clearly happy about the idea of that.

“Every second since I first saw you,” he tells her, never leaving her gaze.  His hands once more glide down her arms until they come to her hands holding the window frame.  “From the first step into this house, I’ve wanted you.”

Lizzy sighs softly at this, eyes never peeling away from his in the dim light of the night.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.  Thinking about this body and all the things I want to do to it.”  It’s true what he says and actually saying it out loud is thrilling.  “You’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Lizzy whispers right away.  The lust she’s felt for him has been very distracting.  From the way he so confidently watched her in the basement, his eyes dragging over her even as they spoke and hid nothing of his desire for her, to the way he took control in the alley outside the bar when he worried about her and her careless ways… he’s been constantly in the front of her mind.

He captures her lips briefly with his own after hearing her response, that she’s been wanting him too.  There’s an attraction there and it was instant.  Last night they danced around it and he’s sure he would have gotten her in bed then if it hadn’t been for the painkillers ruining his ability to stay awake.  It is palpable and strong and everything he’s done all day has been to keep the animal inside him from clawing out and taking her. 

Seems like he doesn’t have to worry about that so much anymore.

When he ends the kiss he backs away from her little bit, enjoying the view once more for a quick second. 

“I meant what I said,” Dean tells her, looking at the panties he has looped around his wrist.  He gets an idea.  “You don’t need to throw punches to get your anger out.”

“Why don’t you show me another way then?” Lizzy suggests, her voice drenched in want as she stands there, still not moving. 

She listens well, something he wasn’t ready for.

Dean huffs a good laugh at the idea and walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge with his boot-clad feet on the floor.  He’s still fully clothed and the idea that he has her down to just her bra and it’s completely uneven… powerful.  And quite intoxicating.

“Come here.”

Lizzy turns to face him for the first time since he got her going.  Dean can see how sincere and rooted with want her eyes have grown as they lock in with his as she advances toward him, slow step by slow step.  She stands before him, never breaking her gaze, as he reaches up to cup his hands around her face and bring it down to him.  Dean tangles his fingers in her hair as he kisses her again, their tongues sliding against each other as be gets more addicted to this.  He smells her shampoo along with the sweet scent of her lip gloss and something else that he thinks is just simply her.  The mixture is so perfectly Lizzy, everything that makes her who she is.  Everything that makes her who he wants.

Without prompting, Lizzy takes it upon herself to straddle his hips with her bare legs, sitting in his lap as she cups his face and continues on.  Her heart is racing with everything, this man turning her on more than she’s ever felt in her life.  This is new, fun… perfect.  And his lips, oh God!  His lips!

When they pause to catch a breath, both stare at each other’s eyes, wide with surprise.  This is better than they were prepared for.  Something intangible is there between them.  And the desire in Dean’s face is what makes her heart pick up even faster.  It’s intense.

Wordlessly, he reaches around her back and makes quick work of the clasp of her bra.   He slips it down her arms and she lets him remove it, getting her completely nude.  He then takes up her wrists and pulls her hands off his jawline.  He moves them behind her back gently and, using her underwear, he ties her wrists together, all the while never taking his eyes off of her bright brown ones. 

“Ok?” Dean asks, unsure of what he’s doing suddenly.  He knows nothing about this woman’s boundaries so it’s best to ask before he assumes.

Lizzy nods with excitement.  “So ok,” she promises and leans forward again, kissing him more. 

While distracted, Dean pulls her thighs in closer and wraps her legs around his back.  He then stands up, bringing her with him, and pulls his arms around her back as she can’t hold onto him.  He keeps kissing her as he turns them around and kneels onto the bed.  He moves up the mattress until he gets to the headboard, sitting her there.  Making sure she’s comfortable enough with her hands behind her back first, he leans over her, bringing his mouth to her ear.

“You don’t mind this, do you?” Dean says with a devious smile on his lips.

“No,” she whispers with an equally lust-filled smile as she turns to look right at him.  He stares right back intensely.  “But you should know I’m better when I have my hands to work with.”

A slightly evil laugh escapes Dean’s throat as he enjoys her response.  She’s aggressive and isn’t afraid to fully participate in this dirty game he’s created.  His fondness grows even larger for her in that moment but he continues on with his impromptu plan despite her comment.

“I’m sure you are, sweetheart… but you’ve been bad,” he says, voice honey-coated as he sits back on his heels.  A hand to her throat, he just simply touches the lines of body.  He moves lower slowly, absorbing the comforting and perfect feel of her soft skin only marred here and there by small scars that can’t compare to his own.  “You gotta learn from your mistakes,” he reminds her, moving lower.  His fingertips graze over her breast, her nipple peaking when he brushes it.  Her back arches just a touch with it, her voice humming.  “So you stay like that.”

There’s a challenge in her eyes as she looks at him but it’s underneath a healthy amount of want.

“You don’t like that, do you?” he smirks, his hand moving down her stomach. 

Her eyes narrow, unsure how to answer with her conflict.

“I’ve seen how stubborn you are,” Dean tells her his observations.  “I know you don’t like to be challenged.”  His hand comes between her thighs and pushes them apart a bit.  He then touches her lightly and watches her eyes flutter.  “But right now… I think you _do_ kinda like it.”

When he begins rubbing slow, light circles into her, Lizzy’s mouth opens but remains wordless.  What can she say?  He’s killing her.  She had an idea he’d be good… hell, everyone has an idea he’d be good just by looking at him.  But this is… mm.

Leaning into her, he kisses her lips once as moves around a bit, getting settled to the side of her.  Dean sits on his side, remaining facing her and angling himself so he’s most effective.  This way he close to her, as close as he wants to be, and he can really do some damage on her now.

“Oh my God,” Lizzy hushes out, following up with a light moan, when his lips find her neck again.  He sucks on the spot just under her ear that she already responded really well to and she can see he’s a quick learner.  He pays attention.  He can tell easily what works and what doesn’t. 

When he puts more pressure on her with his hand she gets a little louder.  Putty in his hands is the phrase for it, he thinks.

“Tell me again,” Dean says low into her ear before running his tongue around the shell of it.  “Say you won’t start fights anymore because this is so much better.”

“I won’t starts fights anymore,” she punches out the statement immediately, surrendering to him all the while.  She’s given up being stubborn already.  It was too easy for him to crack her and she has no idea why.

“Promise?” he smiles deviously, moving his hand a little faster.

“Oh.  Yes.  Promise.”  She’s barely getting the words out, everything building so fast.

“Good,” Dean responds, looking at her face in profile.  Her lips are parted as she pants out how good he’s making her feel.  And she’s stunning like this.  Just stunning. 

Lizzy, out of instinct, tries to use her arms to reach out for him but can’t.  He’s good at knots, she has to admit.  What hunter isn’t?  But right this second it gets frustrating.  She wants to play too.

“Nope,” he tells her, mouth landing on her shoulder next to him as he watches her arms move unsuccessfully. 

“Please…?”

“Not until you say my name,” Dean tells her with far too much confidence.  He always loved when a chick could say his name the right way, like this.

“Dean,” Lizzy instantly lets out, looking to appease him and get her way.

“No, no, no,” Dean nearly laughs, his hand dipping lower as he slides two fingers easily into her.

“Oh!” Lizzy moans out, her hips rising immediately with the change.

“I wanna hear you say my name when you lose it,” he explains, fingers crooking upwards and really making her fall apart.

“Ooh… oh, fuck,” Lizzy says absently, her mind falling into the pleasure all too hard.  He’s too good at this.

“You gonna lose it, L?” Dean questions, mouth once more pressed to her neck.

“Yes,” she exhales hard, hips now moving on their own as it all builds.

Dean employs the used of his thumb on her clit and really makes her moan, the sound possibly too loud for the full house but it doesn’t stop him.  Sometimes seeing a woman get so much pleasure from him is better than his own enjoyment.  And this?  This was definitely one of those moments.  While watching closely at every muscle twitch, every hitched breath, he takes in the sight of her naked form and silently thanks whatever God that gave her to him for the night.

“Oh, God,” Lizzy hums out and Dean focuses.  His hand works faster now.  Her moans are getting louder and he knows she can’t last much longer.  His mouth returns to her lips for just a moment longer, wanting to kiss her again because he couldn’t help it. 

“Say it,” he bids her with his lips still lightly against hers. 

“Holy shit,” Lizzy groans out, eyes locked on his when she realizes how past good this whole moment is.  She’s never had anything like this before.

“I want to hear you say it, Lizzy.”

“Fuck….”

“Say it.”

“Dean.  Fuck, oh God, _Dean_.”

She arches her back, eyes slamming shut, and Dean watches the rush of satisfaction overcome her.  He did that to her.  Hell yeah.  The pride makes it all much better.  Still fully clothed and untouched, Dean realizes that this is the most fun he’s had with a chick in a long time.

Looking down at her as she comes down, he catches himself admiring her.  With her mouth slightly agape, she’s breathing loudly as she relaxes.  Her cheeks are flushed and her eyelashes are fluttering.  Everything about her is absolutely beautiful to him.  Brushing her hair off of her face during her recovery she eventually looks up at him and smiles.

“Oh my fucking God,” she says with total awe.

Dean just grins at her.

“Ha, wow,” Lizzy smiles in return.

“I think that’s the seal of approval,” Dean cockily says as he leans in and kisses her again, this time deepening it and taking his time.  Her lips taste… mm, so good.

While still kissing her Dean moves back between her legs and kneels there.  He pulls her shoulders towards him and sits her up.  Reaching behind her to get to her wrists, he unties her hands. 

The very second her wrists are unbound she pounces on him, lips crushed to his as she shoves him backwards.  She straddles his hips and leans over him once he’s on his back, her hands grasping his jaw with ferocious need. 

“Guess…” he tries to get out but she keeps kissing him.  He pushes her away by cupping her face just enough to speak to her.  Eyes on hers again, the bright spark of excitement in them, he says, “Guess I you liked that.”

“Fuck yeah,” Lizzy says, a smoldering smile on her predatory face.  “And you just made your first mistake, Winchester.”

Dean casts a curious gaze up at her.  “And what’s that?”

“You untied me,” she responds, her hips grinding down on the hardness she can feel through his jeans.  “And now, you’re in big, _big_ trouble….”

* * *

 


	6. Girls Talk Like That?

* * *

He can see the bright sunlight through his still closed eyelids as he gradually awakens from one of the deepest and most peaceful sleeps he’s managed since his father died.  Since then he’s been a wreck of inability to truly get any form of actually rest, always tossing and turning until he gives up or only getting in a couple hours before he wakes up to the fear of losing his dad. 

But not this night.  He’s calm and rested.  He’s feeling shockingly good.

Slowly opening his eyes, Dean looks around and instantly recognizes his usual room at Bobby’s house.  Trying to focus through the haze of sleep, he blinks a few times and focuses, finding the familiar striped and floral print of the old, peeling wallpaper across from the bed.  Then he keeps scanning his surroundings like a good hunter, seeing the scuffed and splintered nightstand followed by the dusty brass and stained glass lamp sitting on top of it. 

 _That lamp_.  The sight of it brings him right back to the night before when he told Lizzy to turn it off in the middle of some seriously hard running desire.  His brain flashes back to everything that came afterwards.  The upward tug on the corners of his mouth is unstoppable as he revels in the memories.  Lizzy’s moans, her soft skin against his, the way her body moved with sheer sex appeal, her perfect curves, those full lips of hers pressed against his….

The sound of the bedroom door opening snaps him out of his memories.  He peers over the comforter and catches Lizzy trying to quietly slink into the room.  Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head and her face is fresh and free from make-up.  She’s once again wearing the white tank and black shorts she was sporting yesterday morning.  They may be girls but living out of your car does limit the size of the wardrobe you’re allowed.  He doesn’t care though because she looked damn good wearing the same thing yesterday.  Hell, she looks even better in it today.

“Good morning,” Dean greets her while sitting up. 

“Morning to you too,” Lizzy freezes halfway to her bag, looking over at him.  “Sorry I woke you.  I was trying to be quiet.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he brushes it off.

“Yeah, but you looked so peaceful all passed out and drooling,” she laughs a little and watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.  “I was kidding.  You didn’t drool.”  He just rolls his eyes at her.  “I just figured that since you slept in a chair last night it would be nice to let you sleep a little longer.”

“Like I said, it’s fine, L,” Dean assures her.  “I woke up on my own a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, ok.  Good,” she just grins at him and stands there.

An uneasy silence descends upon the room when the conversation ends there.  Dean isn’t sure what to say to break the lull, oddly enough getting flustered by the girl he slept with the night before, but he’s relieved when Lizzy takes a seat at the foot of the bed and speaks first.

“So, last night….”  She just raises her eyebrows once with a nervous grin, feeling oddly shy right this second.

“Yeah,” he agrees with her sentiment completely.  “It was… it was something.”  He grins at her slickly.

“That it was,” she bashfully smiles and looks down at her lap, her teeth out in full force when she can’t stop the expression of excited like.

“L, look, I’m sorry if I… you know, came on too strong… I guess you could say.”  He’s worried about how aggressive he might have seemed right off the bat.

“Oh, no!  You totally didn’t!” she interrupts, trying to make him see just how ok it is.  “I know what you were trying to do.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, narrowed eyes on her.

“Yeah.  You were… upset that I went after that dumb drunk chick.  You were worried about me… which is actually kinda sweet.”

“Oh yeah, I’m known for my sweetness,” Dean sarcastically tells her.

“Well, with me you are,” she assures him.  “And trust me, you drove the point home.  I promised you I’d deal with my anger better and I meant it.  You make a good point and it’s nice to know that someone other than Louie gives so much of a shit about my wellbeing.”

“Good.  Because I do,” Dean tells her.  “Give a shit, I mean.”

“That’s a nice feeling,” Lizzy honestly tells him, something deeply caring in her tone.  “And it’s something I need to do anyways.  Clearly anger management is not my forte.”

Dean nods with a surprised expression.  She so easily is accepting what he’s asked of her despite his not truly knowing him all that well.  “Good.  Good, because I was seriously thinking you’d be a little weirded-out this morning with how I went about things, you know?”

She laughs something light and airy.  “Dean, you’re not the only one who likes to get into some twisted stuff here and there.  I… liked it.  A lot.”  She looks away again and brushes her bangs out of her grinning face.

“Knew it,” Dean states with confidence.

“Oh my God,” she covers over her face for a second with her hands before looking back at him.  “Being totally honest here, that may have been the hottest thing I have ever done… or had done to me, I guess you could say.  There’s a reason I practically attacked you once you untied me.” 

Dean thinks he can see every one of her teeth as her smile grows with her admission.

“I didn’t mind the attacking, in case you were wondering,” his voice returns to his usual cocky norm.

“Oh, I wasn’t,” she makes sure he knows.  “You made it clear enough that you enjoyed yourself last night, darling.”  She winks at him.

He feels shy when hearing her say this.  Usually, Dean has his guard up, even while with women.  Being on the road all the time it’s best not to get attached or let himself get too close to anyone, even a girl he’s intimate with.  Last night, however, there was no wall.  Lizzy had stripped it away and made it feel like it was acceptable to.  It was liberating and somehow she got him so comfortable that he was totally, completely himself for once.  He’s only had that kind of night once or twice before, particularly with that yoga instructor he picked up a few years back in Indiana.  Ah, Lisa.  That weekend was awesome.

“There’s just one problem now,” Lizzy tells him, her voice changing as she begins crawling up the bed towards Dean.  Her eyes return to something lustful, he remembers the look from last night.  “I find myself really liking you, Dean.”

_Oh no._

“You leave me wanting more.  Much more.”

 _Shit._  

It’s Dean first instinct upon hearing that she liked him.  Maybe it’s just the love-them-and-leave-them routine he tends to stick to but this can’t be good.  No attachment.  Just fun and no one gets hurt.  That’s what he always does.  Feelings are messy and complicated. 

Lizzy makes her way on top of him and he lies back in bed again.  She lowers herself, her entire body lying on his with the comforter between them, and she kisses him good.  He returns it of course, he’ll never _not_ want to kiss her, but his mind keeps running through the situation.  This isn’t smart.  What is he letting happen here?

When she pulls back for a moment Dean takes the opportunity.

“Lizzy, listen,” he starts gently, his hand pushing the hair out of her eyes so he can look at her face to face.  “You know how it is out there… hunting and everything.  I just… I don’t want you to think that this, the two of us…”

“Could work?” she interrupts him.  She seem to be able to follow his train of thought pretty easily.  It’s a little creepy, if Dean’s being totally honest.  “Yeah, I know.  I would never assume that Dean Winchester could ever settle down.  He’s too busy saving the world, right?”

“Right.”  The sadness in his voice gives him away, along with the sudden disappointment that shadows over his expression.

“Don’t worry,” she says with a half-smile he no longer believes.  “I’m not thinking that this has a chance here.”

She watches further letdown make its way into his expression.  She didn’t expect that reaction at all.

“I have to hunt,” he nods slightly.

“And so do I,” she forces out a brighter grin to help make this better.  “Our lives don’t have room for real relationships, anyways.  And I’m realistic.  I know I’ll probably never have the husband, two kids, a dog and two car garage kind of life.  No white picket fence for hunters, at least while they’re hunting.  I’ve accepted that.”

“That’s very well-adjusted of you,” Dean tells her with surprise.

“Why thank you,” she says in return, trailing the fingertips of her right hand down the side of his face, a face she knows she could never get sick of looking at.  “Truthfully though?  I just like being around you.  You make me feel… giddy, you know?  Like when you first meet someone and you really like them.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling,” he says, admitting to feeling the very same way to her.  That was a big step for him and he knows it.

With her full wattage smile back she continues.  “It’s such a fun feeling and I didn’t think I would get a chance to feel it again living the way that I do.  So… just let me enjoy this for the weekend.  I want to have fun for once and… I want to have it with you.”  She pauses there, waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t.  “Then I’ll drive off into the sunset on Monday, miserable and missing you but… I’ll be glad I got to remember what it feels like to live a normalish life for a second.  The kind of life we try to defend and keep safe every day.  We deserve that much, don’t we?”

Dean reaches up into her hair and pulls her down into another kiss, trying to tell her through it that he comprehends everything she just poured out to him.  Deep down, Dean’s always looked at the normal, ignorant, cheerful people all around him and envied them completely.  Secretly, he wants that.  He wants to find a regular, mundane job, get a little house he can be proud of, find himself a girl to love… hell, even start a family with a couple kids.  Sharing thoughts like these has never been his cup of tea so he doesn’t tell her all this.  All he can do is press his lips to hers, put full meaning behind the embrace, and hope that she understands completely.

She does.  As much as Dean might think he’s a bit of a mystery or that his cover of macho, womanizing, boozing, devil-may-care bullshit is doing a good job hiding who he really is, Lizzy’s never once bought it.  She knows he’s not that man.  She just knows it.

“Mm,” Lizzy hums and pulls away after some make out time.  “As much as I would love this to continue further,” she tells him and presses one last quick kiss to his mouth.  “I told Lou I would be right down.  She and Bobby are making breakfast.”

He does his best to not groan with disappointment when she gets off of the bed and him. 

“You better get going, too,” she warns, getting to her duffle bag finally to pull a sweatshirt out. “Because, honestly, I love bacon and it’ll be gone if you wait too long.” 

Immediately, Dean is on his feet searching for his clothes.  Lizzy laughs at him as she pulls the zip-up on.

“You don’t have to say bacon to me twice, woman!”

* * *

The rest of the morning is lazy and quite relaxing.  Breakfast is delicious and massive.  Lou and Bobby went way overboard but Lizzy and Dean appreciates the effort completely.  The two find themselves watching TV in the living room with coffee mugs in their hands, trying to recuperate from gluttony. Dean takes Bobby’s chair and Lizzy does her best to squeeze into the little room left on the free end of the couch by Sam’s legs. 

Sam ended up passing out last night, not much longer after they had all gotten home.  He hasn’t moved since.  Currently, he is curled up and facing away from the room while still lightly snoring. 

The morning news stays quietly on the television screen while Lizzy and Dean chat through the morning. 

“I think I'm dying,” Dean complains, rubbing his very full stomach as he slouches down in his chair.

“Ugh, I think I’ll be right behind you,” Lizzy complains right back, knowing she’s near sick with the amount of food she ate.

“Guess Bobby and I are some excellent chefs then?” Lou grins as she walks into the room.  She sits Indian-style on the floor between Lizzy’s legs and Lizzy drapes them over Lou’s shoulders.  Lou hugs one of them warmly while still holding her own coffee mug in the other.

“You guys kicked the ass of every dinner I’ve ever been to,” Dean tells her easily.  “And I’ve been to too many to count.  Best eggs I’ve ever had, by the way.”

“Cooked the bacon first, then cooked the eggs in the bacon grease,” she says to him, proud as hell.  She knows he’s a greasy spoon kind of guy.  “My little trick.”

“Awesome trick,” he nods, impressed.

Bobby comes into the room, takes a look around and sees Sam still asleep on the couch.  He huffs with disgust.  “What did you kids to do to him last night?”  He’s questioning the girls specifically as he knows them well enough.

“Ask Lou,” Lizzy smirks as she nudges Lou with one of her legs.

“He drank what he wanted to drink,” Lou rebuts with an edge, annoyed that she’s catching blame.  “I didn’t force him into anything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Bobby gruffly accuses her, not believing her for a second.

“I swear!  I didn’t!” Lou gets pissed.

“It’s true, Bobby,” Dean defends the poor girl even if her best friend wasn’t going to.  “Lou didn’t do anything crazy.  Francis here just isn’t used to drinking like a real man.”

Sam suddenly, without turning around, holds his arm out in Dean’s direction, middle finger extended.  Dean laughs as he watches Sam slowly come out of his coma, groaning in pain and attempting to sit up.

“Easy, Sammy,” Dean laughs.  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jerk,” Sam calls his brother as he moves achingly slow.  Once upright and facing the group Sam doesn’t miss Dean’s eyes light up in amusement.  “What’s with you?” he asks, clearly sensing something is up.

“Nothing,” Dean clears his throat and stops his obviousness.  “You just look craptastic this morning.  How you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like crap,” Sam complains quietly, grabbing the side of his head with the pain.

“You passed out pretty damn hard, Sam,” Lou says without delight.  She’s fully concerned with the terrible state he’s in.  She saw how hammered he was the night before and she feels pretty bad now.

“I don’t remember getting back,” Sam admits.

“Well now that’s the real shame,” Dean says, knowing his poor brother missed out on fun if he blacked out his time with Lou.

“You should take some Advil, drink some water, and get some more sleep,” Lou tells him, getting off the floor and moving to him.  Outwardly Lou will definitely not admit to being the reason Sam’s a mess this morning… but in her head she’s knows she has a lot to do with it.  The guilt is certainly there.  “C’mon, let’s go,” she tries to get him going, holding out a hand for Sam.

Thinking hard about it, really not wanting to move all that much while feeling to terrible, Sam reluctantly grabs her hand.  She pulls and helps him up and as he does he sees something scribbled across his forearm.

 Once standing, he gives his are a good once over.  The scribble is written backwards and very lightly.  Staring for a moment longer, Sam realizes it’s been transferred from his forehead.  He’d fallen asleep on his arm.  Having finally put it all together, he runs his fingers across his brow while the room laughs at his expense.  According to the print, Sam now knows that ‘Samantha’ is plastered across his face. 

“Really?”  He looks at Lou in exasperated disbelief.

“Hey man, we were having fun last night,” she says with a guilt-ridden smile.  “You got my hopes up a bit there, Sammy Boy.  And then you just passed right out.”

“I don’t really drink tequila,” Sam admits while scrubbing his hands down his face.  God, his breath must smell awful.

“You don’t say,” Lizzy laughs and Sam gives her an annoyed face.

“I was disappointed to say the least so… I got you back,” she laughs a little but feels slightly bad.  He’s punished enough by his hang over. 

“You’re terrible with a Sharpie,” Sam comments.

“Yeah….” Lou trails off.

“Man, I really don’t remember much about getting back here last night,” Sam shakes his head a little.

“Time travel; one of the many hazards of drinking,” Dean adds in, loving the scene unfolding in front of him.  Sam got so wasted he couldn’t hook up with the chick nearly tearing his clothes off the night before.  Who is this kid?

“C’mon, Sam.  Advil, water, more sleep.”  Lou puts her arm around his waist and ushers Sam away to the kitchen, Sam surprisingly letting her, as Dean sits with a wide smile. 

“Try the rubbing alcohol!” he shouts after them and Lizzy giggles when she hears her own advice from yesterday being reused.  His brother had fun, got drunk, passed out on a chick; it was all too much for Dean to process. 

“You’re grinning like an idiot over there, you know?”  He turns to Lizzy and she’s grinning herself when Dean pops out of his thoughts.  She looks as amused as he does.

And he takes a second.  The beautiful, and he truly means beautiful, girl sitting across the room is grinning at him.  Just last night she reminded him what fun was, what a connection with a person feels like, and she blew his God damned mind.  Now, belly full of food as he’s comfortably relaxing in the one place he can consider home besides his car, his brother a hungover mess with a chick after his ass… everything is just so good it doesn’t seem real.

“I’m just enjoying the moment, I think,” he tells her.

Lizzy laughs.  “You should try and do that every now and then.”

“I do it when someone gives me a reason to.”

With that Lizzy gets a flustered grin of total adoration on her face and looks to the TV, not knowing what else to do.  He makes her feel that.  She’s giddy and feels like a young kid again around him.  It feels too good. 

Now that Sam isn’t taking up most of the couch Lizzy looks so small in the now open space while all on her lonesome.  Dean gets up and decides that the couch suddenly looks much more comfortable than Bobby’s chair.  Sitting in the open corner, one leg sprawled across the couch, Dean glances at Lizzy while patting the open spot between his jean-covered legs.  He extends an invitation to move closer and sit with him. 

Without a second thought, she silently scoots over and takes a new seat.  She cuddles into him, her back against his front, and gets very comfortable.  Dean pulls an arm around her middle, not at all worried about what Bobby or anyone else might say if they see the two of them like this.  Fuck it.  This weekend wasn’t going to happen again.  He’s doing whatever he feels like.

They sit together like this for the next half hour, not really speaking but not really watching the TV either.  As Lizzy had put it yesterday morning, they were just being.  Lizzy lets out a comfortable sigh and Dean knows that this was one of the best moments he can remember having in a long time.

Monday was coming fast now, but he did his best to put that out of mind.

* * *

By noontime the house has been dusted, scrubbed, and polished.  It almost didn’t look like Bobby’s house anymore, unless of course you looked into the study.  Bobby doesn’t allow anyone to go near that room for cleaning purposes.  Ever. His fear of his ‘order’ getting messed up is too great. 

The girls had done their thing while singing too loudly to Justin Timberlake, which made Dean realize Lizzy wasn’t joking about the way she got chores done.  Pop music is requisite.  After finishing cleaning, the two moved to the kitchen.  Fortunately for the rest of the house, Lou changed the music over to a classic rock mix one of them must have put together.

Dean and Sam are again outside, enjoying the crisp September air, and of course some beers, as they struggle with reattaching the now ding-free bumper.  Once securely back in its place, the two step back, admire their work, then sit around to take a break.

A few more beers and Sam goes inside to use the bathroom.  Dean stays outside, admiring the vibrant colors starting to pop up on the trees and taking in the quiet moment.  He wishes for a second John could be there.  Of course in real life, he never would have taken a weekend off… ever.   And Dean knows he would disapprove of their little vacation.  But Dean thinks he would have loved seeing his sons like this.  Having fun and enjoying life and, most importantly, taking care of the Impala.  It would also have been good to work on the car with his Dad again.  It’s been years since they’ve done that.

The sound of the kitchen window opening pulls Dean out of his thoughts.  He can hear ‘The Chain’ by Fleetwood Mac softly playing over the sound of running water and dishes clanging.  He can also hear Lizzy and Lou talking to each other.  They erupt with laughter at one point and he smiles.  He likes the sound of that.  And he likes that he’s found two hunters that can still have fun in life.  He didn’t know that was possible. 

His nosiness getting the better of him, he lurks closer to the window as soundlessly as possible.

“So you didn’t get too far then I take it?” Lizzy questions.

“Nope,” Lou responds, downtrodden.  “Don’t think I didn’t try, either!  That man was a goner.”

“Oh, he was so drunk!” Lizzy laughs.  “The poor dude.”

“Poor dude?  Fuck that.  A man the size of a friggin’ mountain should be able to hold his liquor a little better,” Lou bitches and Dean has to stifle a laugh at that.  She’s totally right.

“I don’t think he usually drinks all that much, Louie,” Lizzy reminds her.

“No shit.”  Lou sighs heavily.  “And all I wanted to do was find out if he was huge _everywhere_ ….” 

“Louie!”

“What!?  Like you haven’t wondered the same thing at some point!” she accuses.

Lizzy pauses.  “Ok, so the thought might have crossed my mind….”

“Ha!”

“But I’m not so curious I’m gonna funnel straight booze down his throat just to find out!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Riiiiight,” Lizzy responds, clearly not believing her.

“Whatever,” Lou complains.  “I’ll just have to remember that Sam and tequila don’t mix.”

“No they don’t.”  The two are laughing.  “And could you please go a little easier on him?  He’s like a wounded bird with a vicious cat on his ass.  I feel like I’m watching National Geographic.”

The silence that follows is thick and Dean can practically see the look of annoyance on Lou’s face.

“Don’t get pissed,” Lizzy continues.  “He’s just… he’s like a big, cute… teddy bear.  I don’t want you to rip him to shreds.”

“Fucking fine.  I’ll be _nicer_ ,” Lou says with total disdain.  “But if me being nicer doesn’t get me laid I’m blaming you.”

“Find by me,” Lizzy lightly answers, clearly smiling and Dean couldn’t appreciate her more for sticking up for his brother.  Sam’s just awkward and needs a second.  Lou doesn’t.  Maybe this will help.  “It’s a shame, though.  He’s fucking hot.”

“Oh my God!” Lou loudly agrees.  “His body is insane!”

“Thought you struck out?” Lizzy challenges.

“I did but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do a little exploring,” Lou tells her.  “Fuck me, man.  Abs for fucking days.  It would be so easy for him to just pick little ol’ me up and toss me around.  Mm.  I am totally gonna have to try again with him.”

“Oh, and the best part is it’s almost like he doesn’t even know he’s hot.  I love when that somehow happens to sexy men.”

“Oh, me too!  And I think you’re right.” Lou agrees.  “He has no idea.”

“None.”

“Dean on the other hand…”

Dean’s ears perk up and he smirks, ready to get into it a little.  He’s too curious now.

“Oh, he knows he’s hot shit, ha!” Lizzy finishes for her, laughing. 

“So you know I was unsuccessful, but how about you?”

“What about me?” Lizzy asks using her most innocent sounding voice.

“Oh come on!  I heard the noises coming from your room last night!”

“What noises?” Lizzy keeps up the charade. 

“Bitch, don’t make me force it outta you!”

“Alright, alright.”  Lizzy takes a deep breath and gets ready to speak.

“Speaking of size….”

“ _Louie_.”

“What!?” she asks, surprised to get such scolding.

“Could you just be… not you for a second here?”

“I’m a fucking saint,” she quickly jokes.  “Come on.  How was it?”

Lizzy sighs and Dean can hear the smile on her face when she responds, “Seriously?  It was kind of amazing.”

“Amazing!?”

“Yeah.”

Dean’s smiling genuinely now.

“Like… amazing how?”

“Amazing like… oh man.  This sounds lame but… like, the best night of my life, amazing.”

And his pride jumps to a whole new level.

“Bull-fucking-shit.”

“Really, Louie!  It was… shit, it was crazy.” 

Best conversation he’s ever heard.

“Oh my God,” Lou lets out with shock.  “Ok, so what hap…”

“Hey Sam,” Lizzy greets brightly as Sam walks back through the kitchen to head outside again.  Clearly she was trying to shut Lou up while he walked through. 

“Hey,” Sam returns, sensing that he was interrupting them.  The silence takes over and his discomfort sets in as they just look at him, waiting for his exit.  “Well… uh, guess I’ll just… head back out.”

He leaves without another word and when Dean sees him come out the side door he presses a finger to his lips warning Sam not to make any noise.  Sam slowly heads to the window with him, confused look in place, and stands next to Dean.  Once he hears the girls’ voices, though, he shoots Dean a disappointed look.  Dean doesn’t care and continues listening.

“Ok, what the hell happened?” Lou asks the second Sam’s gone.  “Details, woman!”

“Everything happened,” she answers as truthfully as she can. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means… I don’t know,” she laughs a little, still awed by the night.

“Did you fuck?”

“Crude,” Lizzy says with disappointment.

“Um, since when did you get all tight lipped about this kinda stuff?” Lou asks accusingly.

“When I… I don’t know.  Shut up,” she gets embarrassed.

Annoyed sigh, Lou asks, “Can you give me anything?”

“Well… I can tell you that at one point I had my hands tied behind my back with my own underwear.”

Sam’s eyes are wide open as he stares in shock at Dean, who is grinning and nodding his head with pride. 

“What!?” Lou shouts at her, the sound of a utensil clattering to the tile floor being heard.

“Ow!  Bitch, why are you throwing forks!?”

“Because you’re lying!” 

“I am _not_ lying.  I don’t lie to you ever and you know that.”

“True.”

“And that happened.  Swear on my life.”

“Hot fucking damn,” Lou awes.

“Ugh, Lou.  It was intense.  He’s so….”

“Brain meltingly hot?” Lou says knowingly.

Dean nods with egotistical pride and Sam rolls his eyes.

“So fucking hot,” Lizzy agrees.  “The way he kept speaking to me in that fucking voice, mm.  Oh, and his eyes!  He would stare at me so intensely that it almost scared me… but I liked it.”

“So you totally had sex,” Lou assumes now.

“Oh yeah… twice.” 

“Why!?  Why did you get all that and I got nothing!?” Lou jealously gripes.

“Green is not a good color on you,” Lizzy points out with a good laugh at her friend.  “And we’re not leaving for another few days.  Relax.  You have time to crush that poor boy like a bug.”

Sam’s eyes pop wide open with a mix of shock and fear.  Dean smiles and points at him, knowing Sam hates this.  Sam then books it back towards the car and the beers.

“Holy hell,” Lou breaks in, still surprised pleasantly.  “You know, the minute I saw him I knew Dean was a little nasty.”

“Oh really?”

“Most definitely.  You can see it in the eyes.”

Lou’s a perceptive person, Dean presumes.   

“Yeah, he kind of is,” Lizzy agrees.  “But I can be too so it works.”

“Perfect.”

“But he’s more than that,” Lizzy explains.  “It wasn’t all… kink.  It was just really good.  We connected.  I mean, after he untied me, Lou, oh my God!  I totally attacked him.  Just went nuts.  I never act like that but he was turning me on so much I, I… I don’t know.  I couldn’t help it.  I’ve never been like that, been so open with someone.  Like, I don’t ever connect like that with other guys.”

Dean wonders if she read his mind this morning.

“Shit,” Lou’s voice drops an octave.  “You’re getting all serious over there.”

“Not trying to,” Lizzy sounds suddenly sad.  “Nothing can come of this, I know that, and when we leave who knows if we’ll ever see those two again.”

“Come on,” Lou denies.  “We’ll definitely see them again, especially if they’re always dropping by Bobby’s.”

“That’s true…”

“And honestly, after everything you just said?  The two of you have something there, dude.”

“I know,” Lizzy replies while Dean’s heart drops.  Shit.  He knows how she feels.

“Yeah, well, we’ve _all_ noticed.”

“But I still have to pretend it isn’t there,” Lizzy says.  “We just have to have some fun until Monday.  I’ll deal after.”

Dean can hear the sadness in her voice. 

“Oh, great,” Lou complains.

“What?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

Dean hears Lizzy sigh loudly, which he takes to mean yes.  This conversation has taken a way too heavy turn for him to deal, so he starts walking towards Sam again, abandoning the conversation. 

He doesn’t think about it because why bother.  It’ll just suck.  Instead he pulls a fresh beer out of the cooler, closes it and sits down on the lid.  He takes a huge gulp to try and wash away the feeling of… dread?  He isn’t sure. 

“Did you know that girls talked like that?” Sam asks Dean, pulling him out of the funk he’d gotten himself into.  He sounded so young, like the 15 year old Sam he used to know that would always ask questions about girls and social life.

“I had always hoped so, Sammy,” Dean answers honestly, happy to have found out that chicks were not so different.  It’s refreshing, or at least these two are.

“It’s weird,” Sam says, uncomfortable.  “I just never though women would say those kinds of things.  I mean, that’s oversharing, dude.”

“That’s not oversharing.  They’re just really close.  Like sisters.”

“Hey, we’re close but we never talk like that.”

Dean wrinkles his brow at the statement.  “That’s because you’re a prude.”

“I’m not a prude, Dean.  I just feel like knowing that side of my brother might be a little TMI.”

“And that makes you a prude, Sam.”  Dean huffs a laugh at him.  “You should’ve stayed and listened.  You could’ve learned a thing or two.”

Sam rolls his eyes at the suggestion.  The two continue relaxing and drinking away the afternoon.  As it got darker, the smell of baking apples and cinnamon floats through the open window.  Dean closes his eyes and savors the aroma.  She’s nearly perfect, he thinks, or at least for him she is.  She bakes pies, likes mostly good music, doesn’t take shit from anyone, is a demon in the sack, hell, she hunts and understand his life. 

Fuck, he thinks to himself.  He really does like her too.

Then he smirks when he remembers something.

“You shouldn’t have taken so long with that bathroom trip, you know,” he smiles and sips his beer casually.

“Why?”

“You missed the Sam part of that whole conversation.”

“ _What_!?”

* * *

 


	7. Popping the Cork

* * *

“Oh my God, this is freakin’ amazing,” Dean proclaims through the first bite of apple pie, eyes wide with surprise.  He’s had pie before, boy has he, but this is the _real_ stuff, the kind he always pictured was made in homes by mom’s that were the picture of perfect and created all things from scratch.

“Why thank you,” Lizzy responds while grinning proudly, placing a plate with another slice in front of each of Sam and Bobby while Lou starts pouring coffee for everyone. 

The dinner the girls made was excellent.  They did it right from top to bottom.  Home-cooked meals have been practically nonexistent for the brothers since their Dad took the boys out on the road, unless of course one counts macaroni and cheese out of a blue box as a home-cooked meal.  When their mother died, the little luxuries of a normal, domestic life disappeared along with her so this sit-down dinner makes Dean feel young again, like the virtuous child he once was, and it makes Sam feel like he’s getting a glimpse into everything he never got to experience.  They feel the warmth of a real home and the kindness of being taken care of while around Lizzy and Lou.  Considering Dean had become the care provide for his brother when he was only a kid himself, having someone else look after him was quite comforting.

There the five sit in Bobby’s old kitchen, forks moving furiously, before Bobby speaks up.

“Girls, I think I need to thank you,” he says, lowering his fork for just a second.  “The cleaning, the meal, the Lagavulin… it’s been really nice having you around.”

“Anytime, sensei!” Lizzy laughs as she takes another bite, letting the taste wash over her.  It’s not as good as she remembers as her mother didn’t make it, but it’s close.  Close enough to remind her of the better times.

“Sensei?” Sam asks, swallowing down his last bite, and he gives Bobby a questioning look.

“Long story,” the older man quickly brushes off and takes another bite.  “Mm, you know… I haven’t had pie like this since Karen….  Since Karen.”  He stops himself.  Bobby isn’t an emotional kind of guy but even so he still can get a little choked up when remembering his wife.  She was a baker like no other.  And she was kind, just like these two girls of his.

“From what you’ve told us of her pie making skills, I don’t have shit on her, Bobby.  But thank you anyways.”  Lizzy laughs a little, knowing how Bobby would brag about Karen’s kitchen abilities. 

Dean then realizes that through the hospitality these girls have shown them, they’ve brought each of the three men back to the better times in their lives.  Times when comfort and security and happiness were normal and ever present.  How did they do that?  How are they still so connected to their past, or the good parts at least?  He silently prays that hunting doesn’t turn them into the hardened asses that Bobby, Sam, and he have become.  It would be a true shame.

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve had more than a handful of home-cooked anything in my life,” Sam realizes as he finishes off his slice in record time, eating with Dean-speed.

“Really?”  Lou looks surprised, forehead wrinkled with such depressing news.

“Really,” Sam tells her.  “Mom died before I was even one.  I have no memories of her.”  He doesn’t miss the absolutely crushed look on Lou’s face.  “But Dean always does what he can, though.  Fills me in on the better things.  Tells me about her.”

“She was an awesome mom,” Dean says very quietly, the table turning to look at him as he stabs at the last few bites of the apple pie on his plate.  “The best.”

Lizzy, sitting next to Dean, reaches under the table and grabs his hand when she can literally feels the pain radiating off of him with the memory of his mother.  He looks over at her and she’s giving him a kind, understanding look.  He smiles lightly, the grin returned back to him, before continuing to eat his pie with his free hand, not letting go of Lizzy with the other. 

“My mom was pretty good too,” Lizzy tells him, able to talk more freely about her these days.  “She was the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

“Which was good since mine was just a lovey-dovey hippie,” Lou laughs a little.

“Yeah, they did make a good pair,” Lizzy laughs right back.  “One always having what the other lacked.”

“Our parents were very close,” Lou explains to the boys.  “We lived next door to each other.  It’s like we had two sets of parents.”

“Sounds… hard,” Dean thinks, knowing that in his more formative years he wasn’t always the easiest kid.  Having two sets of parents?  He’s be grounded permanently.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Lizzy swears.  “And we were trouble makers.  We needed four people on our asses.”

“And we turned out alright.”

“Yeah we did,” Lizzy nods and smile at her best friend.

After finishing dessert, the men volunteer to clean up while the girls go off to relax and get a movie going.  Dean is on dish drying duty and as he’s walking through the kitchen putting freshly cleaned plates and silverware away once Sam was done scrubbing them, he notices Lizzy running around grabbing things.  First, she takes what’s left of the open box of beers and walks outside with them.  Then she comes back, grabs her IPod dock, some blankets, and Sam’s sweatshirt that’s draped over the back of a kitchen chair before heading outside again.  Dean is officially curious. 

Ten minutes later the kitchen is spotless.  Lou tosses a bag of popcorn into the microwave and starts ushering the group into the living.  Before Dean can make it through the doorway he’s tugged back into the kitchen by a small hand grabbing his elbow.

“Go grab your coat and meet me outside,” she says in a hushed voice.  She gives him an excited look before heading out the side door of the house.  His interest fully piqued now, he rushes to get his oversized leather jacket and puts it on as he heads out the door.  Lizzy is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps with a big bundle in her arms.  She’s swimming in Sam’s huge sweatshirt and has a knit hat on her head. 

“You’re on cooler duty.  Follow me.”

Dean picks up the cooler and follows Lizzy as she walks down a big aisle of stacked, rusted cars.  They march across the dirt path, boots crunching on the gravel, until they come upon an old, tireless pickup truck on the edge of the property.  The view of the darkening, dusk sky is wide and makes Dean feel small and insignificant yet in a really good way.  Somehow the vastness gives him solace, makes him just like all the other schmucks roaming the planet.

“We’re here,” Lizzy proclaims, putting her bundle on the truck bed.  Dean drops the cooler at his feet as Lizzy climbs aboard and begins spreading the two blankets across the metal truck bed.  He helps her get the blankets in place then lifts the cooler onto the open back gate and hops on himself.

“All the times I’ve been to Bobby’s I’ve never come out this way,” Dean says as they sit next to each other, backs against the truck’s cab.  “Guess I should have.”

“Definitely,” Lizzy agrees, gazing up into the sky as the stars start popping into the deep blue.  “It’s beautiful back this way.  And quiet.  Kinda makes me feel like the last person on Earth.”

Dean just smiles at the thought and joins her in looking upwards.  The sky is dark and the stars dot it plentifully.  The moon is nearly full so the light provided is perfectly enough see clearly.

“Lou and I found this clearing one of the times we came out to train four or five years back.  We used it as our way of disappearing from Bobby.”

“You hid from Bobby?” Dean questions, almost laughing at the idea.

“Dude, he was relentless sometimes.”

“Really?” he wonders, not thinking of Bobby that way.  Sure, he’d get in trouble when he was being a jackass kid sometimes but he was never relentless. 

“ _Absolutely_ ,” she emphasizes.  “Look, I know he wanted us fully prepared and all, and I can completely understand that… but sometimes he was too damn much, man.”

He huffs a laugh.  “I can’t see it.”

“He’s not always a sweet guy hiding behind grumpiness and booze.  Trust me, he’s an ass kicker.”

“Huh... well now I’m just curious.”

“About?” she looks up at him by her side.

“How good you are,” Dean says.  “Might have to see you in action.”

“You just call me up the next time you get in a jam out there, kiddo,” she pats his knee jokingly.  “I’ll come and save you.”

“Oh really?” Dean asks with doubt.

“Don’t underestimate me by my looks,” she says, knowing her thin five foot five inch frame isn’t all that much.  “I’m _good_.”

“Ok,” Dean nods with a grin and reaches into the cooler to retrieve a couple beers.  He passes one to Lizzy before cracking open his own.  Lizzy thanks him for the beer but puts hers down before opening it. 

“Can you put on my classic rock playlist?” she requests of him and hands over her iPod from her denim pocket.

“Sure.”  Dean take sit and starts flipping through the index of playlists.  He laughs a little out loud at what he sees. 

“What?” she has to know.

“Your playlists.  You have one for everything,” he says to her.  “Chores, Classic Rock is Awesome….” 

“That’s the one I want,” she tells him but he keeps talking instead.

“Drinking Shoes… Can of Whoop Ass?”

“For when I’m training or working out,” she absently explains, hand in her pocket to retrieve something else.

“Lowdown, Dirty Good Time,” Dean reads and looks at her.  “Is that what I think it is?”

“Sex is sometimes best with the perfect soundtrack.”  She grins with mischief.

“That mean I’ll get to hear it later?”

“Keep playing your cards right and who knows,” she shrugs but her delighted face gives her away.

“I’m totally gonna hear it later,” he says to himself with certainty.  He takes the iPod dock she had in her arms with the blankets and pops it in.  He pushes play on the Classic Rock is Awesome playlist and puts the dock down on the cooler as ‘Southern Man’ fills the air.  He skims down the list a little and likes what he sees.  ‘Hell Ain’t a Bad Place to Be,’ ‘Limelight’,’ Bad Company,’ ‘Let it Ride,’ and ‘Renegade.’  He gives up after that as the list goes on for over a hundred songs.  He’s impressed yet again.

Looking back at Lizzy, he sees her sitting cross-legged and hunched over.  Her hair blocks him from seeing what she's doing.

“What’s going on down there?”

“Just preparing a little relaxation technique.”  Lizzy brings her hands to her mouth and licks the rolling paper she has pinched between her thumbs and forefingers.  She seals it and twists the end closed.  “You smoke at all?”

“Not nearly often enough,” he quickly answers her.

“Yeah, me neither.  I used to a good amount but now I don’t get the chance to so much, being on the road all the time and working.  Can’t hunt stoned.”

“Bad idea.”

“I know.  Lucky for me, a guy we helped about two months ago felt it necessary to thank us in a dime bag.”  She holds the joint up to her lips as Dean takes out his Zippo and lights the end for her.  She inhales deeply before passing it to him.  As she exhales, “Ahhh I miss that.”  She looks over and watches Dean take a puff.  "It’s good shit too.  Shame that Lou hates the stuff.  She gets insanely paranoid every time and just does weird shit.  She completely ruins it for me every time and, since smoking alone is boring, I’ve been sitting on this bag for a while now.”

“Glad I could help,” Dean coughs out.  It has been years since he’s smoked anything at all.

“Easy, Hot Shot,” Lizzy jabs while patting his chest.  “It has been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out and recovers quickly enough.  “Hey, ah… what’s with all this Hot Shot stuff?  You’ve called me that a few times now.”

“Seemed to fit,” she brushes it off and smiles.

“You know, I never really thought of myself as a Hot Shot,” he tells her, handing the joint back and watching her take a drag.  “I like to think of myself more as hot _shit_.”  He emphasizes the last word and waits to see if Lizzy understands him.

She pauses and looks at him, exhaling smoke.  “Hot shit, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” he smirks. 

“Well, Mr. Hot Shit, did you happen to do a little spy work this afternoon?”

“Maybe,” Dean says casually before plucking the joint from her and taking another drag.

“Great,” is all Lizzy can say as she tucks her long bangs behind her right ear and fidgets a little.  Dean’s making her uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care.

“It was quite the ego boost listening to you two talk,” he keeps going, making her squirm a little.  “You had the best night of your life and Lou pegged me as a kinky fuck the second she saw me.”

“She’s good at reading people.”

“Guess so.”  He hands back the joint, eyeing her.  “I have to ask, do you two always talk like that?”

“Of course we do,” Lizzy returns easily.  “That’s the best part of having a sister.  Boy talk.”  She takes another hit.  “We always share everything, good and bad.  Have since we were little.”  She pauses and looks at him.  “And I don’t think I said _anything_ about having the best night of my life.”

“Excuse me?” Dean asks and she plays it off, just looking away smugly.  “Yes you did.  That’s _exactly_ what you said.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.”

“Nah.  I just remember saying it was fun…” 

“Ok, gonna play it like that, huh?  Fine.”  Dean grins like a kid.  He’ll let her play it off but he knows what he heard.

“So,” Lizzy begins as she puts out what little was left of the joint and snuggles into Dean’s side, “Tell me a little more about Dean Winchester.”

He puts his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his side just right, and pulls one of the blankets over them.  The warmth of each other makes the brisk night air more manageable.  “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” she says obviously.  “Where are you from?  Why are you a hunter?  What’s your favorite song?  Favorite color?  Anything.”

“Whoa, ok,” Dean slows her down.  “Some of those questions are kinda loaded there, L.” 

“Ok, let’s start at the beginning then.  Where did you live… before in your car that is?”

“Until I was four, in Kansas.”

“Kansas, huh?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re a Midwestern boy,” she awes, liking that thought.  “Good ol’ corn fed boy.  I like that.  Plus, I love the Wizard of Oz… and ‘Carry on My Wayward Son’ is one of my all-time favorite songs.”  Lizzy jokes with him.  “Where in Kansas?”

“Lawrence.  It’s between Topeka and Kansas City.”

“I know Lawrence,” she nods.  “Was there last year for a haunting in some old mill on the outskirts.  Went to the Burger Stand like three times when we were there.”

“The smoke burger,” Dean says knowingly, his mouth practically watering at the thought.

“Yes!  So fucking good, right!?”

“The best,” Dean nods. 

“You know your food stands.”

“What hunter doesn’t?”

“Very true,” she laughs a little.  “Ah, so you’re a Chiefs fan?”

“Yeah.  Haven’t had much time to follow them lately though.”

“Busy?”

The way Dean sighs with disgust lets her know he’s been crazy busy.

“Seriously, a fall season without being able to watch my Patriots kick ass is not a fall I want to experience,” Lizzy tells him with certainty.

“The Pats?” he wonders with disappointment.

“Hell fucking yeah, the Pats.”

“Eh, Tom Brady’s a pretty boy,” Dean makes fun and then instantly feels the pain in his arm.  “Ow!” he yells at her while holding his shoulder.  “Again?”

“Call my quarterback a pretty boy another time and it won’t just be a punch in the arm,” she warns with a pointed finger his way.

“Alright.  Jesus,” he gruffs out.  “Strong for a chick.”

“You know it,” she says as she rubs Dean’s arm where she punched him.  It’s her own silent apology, never actually wanting to hurt him.  He shouldn’t have insulted her guys.  “So… back to you, why are you a hunter, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Dean doesn’t answer right away.  He isn’t sure he wants to get into that right now. And then he sees a way out.  “Wait, isn’t it my turn to ask something?”  It’s his diversion tactic.

She nods slowly, grabbing her beer and taking a sip.  “Fair enough.”

“Tell me what one of your tattoos mean,” he finally asks.  Last night she fell asleep before he did.  As she slept he looked over the arm she had draped across his chest.  He grew curious.  “And don’t tell me about an easy one, like a symbol I already know.”

“Ok.”  She rolls up the sleeve of the giant sweatshirt and points to a date.  September 30, 2003.  “This is the date that my parents passed away.  Three days after my own birthday.  This will always be the day that Elizabeth died along with them.  It was the day my entire life stopped being happy, hopeful, and blissfully ignorant… and changed into whatever the hell it is now.”  Her tone changes here.  It’s no longer fun and light.  There’s true and deep sadness in her and it’s coming through her words.

“You didn’t have to pick one that’s so personal.”  Dean feels bad he asked her to divulge such information.

“No, it’s fine.  I chose that one on purpose.  It’s the most meaningful tat I have so it’s ok.”  After a silent moment, Lizzy adds, “I just miss them still.  I don’t think that… hole will ever go away.”

“It won’t,” Dean quickly confirms.  He links his hand in hers, twining their fingers tightly when he can relate so well.

When he looks at her eyes she’s already staring at him, a pleading that’s silent in her face. 

“I wish you could say it gets better,” she says to him, let down.

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he responds, not able to tell her she’ll feel better one day if she won’t actually.

Deep breath in and slowly let out, Lizzy blinks a few times and moves on.  “So, it’s my turn.  Same question as before.  What made you a hunter?”

No avoiding it now, Dean thinks to himself.  But then again why bother hiding it away.  It seems that she’ll understand him well enough.  “My mother died when I was very young.”

"Four?” she guesses, remembering what he’s already told her.

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, sitting back into the truck, their shoulders pressed together and hands still tightly clasped.  “I was four and Sam was just a baby.  There was this… fire in our house.  It started in my brother’s room in the middle of the night.  Dad grabbed Sam and handed him to me, telling me to run, go as fast as I can.  So I did.  I didn’t even think twice, just did what he told me to do… to save Sam.  I got us out while Dad ran back to save mom… but he couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Lizzy immediately says, her heart heavy for the sadness all over him.  The second he mentioned his mother he reverted.  He’s just a little boy when he remembers her, going back to when he was young and looked to his mom for everything. 

He just forces a quick smile at her that fades immediately.

“You were so young.  You barely got to know her.” 

He hears sorrow and sympathy in her voice but it isn’t pitying.  It’s shared.  “No I didn’t.  But I do have some memories of her and that’s more than Sammy has.  That poor kid only knew Dad, me, and hunting.  He’s never had an ounce of stability in his life.”

“So your family started hunting right after your mother died in a house fire?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” she wonders.  “I mean, house fires aren’t exactly supernatural.”

This was the part Dean was trying to avoid.  It’s too similar to her own story, it hits home too closely.  But she asked and he already knows all about her history.  Fair is fair.

“She was attacked before the fire started.  A demon had… hurt her and then set the house on fire to cover its tracks.”  He leaves it at that.  No need to share details and dig her into his mess.

With that, the idea that a demon came for his own mother much like one did hers, Lizzy looks out over the sky instead of at him.  She can’t.  He’s been through it too… but at a much younger age.  She can’t imagine that.

The moonlight is shining into her chestnut eyes, revealing the teardrops threatening to fall as her eyes swell.  A cold autumn breeze blows and it makes her blink, causing her eyes to overflow.

She wipes at them immediately.  “Sorry,” she smiles falsely.  “Why would it go after her?”

“That… we’re not sure,” Dean lies through his teeth.  He doesn’t want her to know about Sam.  Hell, he doesn’t even really know about Sam at this point.  He’s terrified of it all and she’ll remain as far away from it all as possible. 

“Oh, Dean,” she whispers sadly, bringing her hand to Dean’s cheek lovingly. 

His eyes angle downward, away from her as he continues to speak while no longer able to witness the hurt she’s feeling for him.

“That’s why Sam didn’t want to stay this weekend,” he explains.  “I know you guys were wondering what the hell we were talking about yesterday morning.  We’ve been hunting the thing that killed mom… have been all our lives, actually.  We’d been onto something for a little while there but lost track of it and now… now we have no leads.  We’re just sitting on our thumbs waiting for omens or something, _anything_ to pop up and give us some direction.”

Lizzy just lets him talk, getting the feeling that this opening up is a rarity for him.  He’s so hurt, so affected by everything he’s seen that her heart absolutely breaks for him. 

“Dad was on its trail for a while there and we’ve tried to pick up where he left off.  After he died, it’s been an obsession to find the bastard….”

“I would want its ass dead too,” Lizzy confirms for him, fire in her voice for what it’s done to his family.

“If it takes all I got, even if it kills me… I will end that mother fuck if it’s the last thing I do.”  Dean doesn’t miss the upset look she makes at that.  He further explains.  “Especially since… we think it was the same thing that got my mom that killed dad.”

“The same thing?” Lizzy asks with shock. 

“Yeah,” Dean solemnly nods.

“But Mary died decades ago….”

“I know.”  His face stays stern and serious.

“You think…” she starts and shakes her head no.  “The same demon that murdered your mother… you’re saying it came back and took John too?”

“We’re pretty sure.”

“Jesus, Dean,” she laments shakily, the tears fully flowing now.  “What the fuck have you been through?”   The pain she feels for his situation is too much. 

And watching her get so effected, feel so strongly for his ordeal because she truly, honestly cares, makes him let go too.  A tear of his own quietly makes its way down his cheek. 

“Dean,” Lizzy speaks softly.  “I am so, _so_ sorry.”

She moves quickly to pull him into her and wrap him up in her arms.  She can’t believe what she’s hearing.  For years she couldn’t picture a worse fate than her own.  How wrong she was.

Yet Dean’s still a good person.  A _very_ good person.  He’s remained a caring, funny, and still virtuous individual.  How, she has no idea, but now she can see just how strong a man he is.  And she can see just how absolutely beautiful a person her is, inside and out.

He’s exceptional… if the word exceptional was good enough for him.

Facing him, Lizzy kisses his cheek, the tears left behind on her lips salty and warm.  He deserves so much more and she hopes she can make sure that he understands that, starting now, he has one more person in his corner that can understand him and stand tall with him.

Dean presses his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.  He lets the weight of the huge, unfair, and fucked-up world he lives in finally crush him.  Sobbing is not something Dean does.  He deals; he drinks, he fucks women, and he buries it all very deep, only allowing himself a very occasional outburst, like the one time relief of slamming a crowbar into the Impala a couple dozen times after his father died.  He’s never truly grieved the proper way, until now.

Lizzy pulls Dean into her hard when he truly lets go, his head finding the comfort of her neck and shoulder as her arms cocoon him in safety.  He can feel the damp saltwater that’s being soaked up into Sam’s soft sweatshirt against his skin but he doesn’t move.  They stay like this for a long time, even after he’s calmed down.  It’s secure here, like when he got hurt as a kid and his mother’s hug was the only thing that made it better.  Lizzy’s hands run through his hair as she does her best to sooth away the agony of everything he’s been through. 

“Bobby told me he gave you the rundown of my own story,” she speaks quietly to him when he’s gathered himself a little more.  “You know what happened to my parents.  Dean, I can absolutely understand what you are going through.”

She can feel him nod against her shoulder in understanding.

“You do whatever it takes to get that fucker,” she says to him, the edge in her voice steel and sharp.  “If you need our help, you just say the word.  Just name it.  Louie and I can understand this better than most.  And if I knew that the thing that tore up my… if I knew it was still out there, I wouldn’t be able to rest until that thing was six feet under.”

Dean picks up his head from its place on her shoulder and looks at her, really looks.  She means it.  She would do anything to help him in this vengeance-filled crusade of his.  He captures her lips with his own swiftly.  The move is filled with sincerity and thanks.  Having someone who understands him is new.  He’d only told one other girl about the reality he lived in and she couldn’t possibly have run away any faster.  It always felt like no one could truly comprehend the things he’s been through, the things he’s seen, or the nightmare that he lives.  But Lizzy… Lizzy can.  She’s been there.  She hasn’t seen the worst of it, how bad and evil it can get, but she shares the same hurt and burden and Dean is not getting the impression that Lizzy is about to flee. 

“You ok?” Lizzy asks after pulling back from him for a moment.  He nods a yes.  “Good.  Fuck, I really ruined our fun by asking some heavy questions, didn’t I?” she laughs a little.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Dean dismisses and runs a hand down his face roughly.  “I think my weeping like a little girl really helped kill any fun we had going anyways.”

“Maybe,” Lizzy chuckles.  “Alright then, let’s try this again.”

“Alright,” Dean agrees as she once more settles in close by his side, putting his arm around her shoulders.  He pulls the blanket tightly over them both.

“Favorite song?”

Dean’s lips stretch into a grin as she lightens the mood and brings their conversation back to the more casual place they had found earlier.  He reaches to her cheek and wipes away the black smudge of makeup that has run under her eye with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s a tie between Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On’ and ‘Traveling Riverside Blues.’”

They stayed out under the stars for a while longer, talking and discovering more about their eerily similar interests.  The more Dean learned, the more he liked her.  They smoked some more, drank some more, and enjoyed each other’s company.  Once the cold finally got to them, the two packed up and headed back to the house.  They drop their things in the kitchen and immediately raid the refrigerator, hunger getting the best of them.  Dean puts the one untouched pie on the table and grabs two more beers. 

“Oh, almost forgot,” Lizzy announces, jumping out of her chair and heading for the refrigerator door.  She takes out the whipped cream she had forgotten about earlier.  Shaking the can as she heads for Dean’s plate first, she asked, “Want some?”

“Definitely… on second thought,” Dean grabs the can out of Lizzy’s hand and stands up, faking a yawn as he does.  “I’m actually really tired.  I think I am just going to hit the hay.”  He starts toward the stairs, whipped cream can still in hand.  Glancing over his shoulder, he winks at Lizzy before starting his climb.  He can hear the small yet quick footsteps follow him soon after.  Dean tosses the can in the air, flipping it.  He then catches it, then smiles to no one in particular before heading into his usual room.

“Awesome.”

* * *

 


	8. Always Be Prepared

* * *

The warm, inviting hand running across his chest is what wakes him up.  Slowly coming to, Dean recognizes the feeling of her soft and still naked body pressed against his back as he lays on his side and an instant smile is spread across his expression before his eyes even open.  Something tickles his cheek lightly and when he opens his eyes he sees that dark strands have fallen over his face as Lizzy plants a kiss on his neck.  Just one pleasant and adoring kiss.

“Morning, Hot Shot,” she sighs into his ear, a smile on her own lips to have woken up where she is.  She saw his bare back, toned and strong even in sleep, and couldn't help herself.  She was touching him before her brain could even ask her to.  And she can’t stop touching him either, her hand still lazily moving back and forth across his stomach as she settles in close.

“Morning,” he responds, his voice rough with sleep.  Turning his head, he catches her bright brown eyes looking right at him with something quite caring and sweet.  He’s not used to seeing that look on anyone.  “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” she answers, kissing his neck again.  Dean blinks slowly once while inhaling, getting more and more used to the feeling of her being near him. 

He rolls onto his back, reaching an arm around her shoulders.  Lizzy finds the comfortable nook between his arm and body and she continues trailing her fingers across him, slowly letting them find their way lower. 

“Yeah, me too… huh,” Dean realizes with the comfort of waking this way.  “I haven’t slept that good in… shit, I’m not sure I know.”

“I know how to put you down right,” she smirks up at him, her hand sliding lower and dancing over his morning wood.

“Can’t get enough, huh?” Dean asks confidently, his hand running up and down her arm.

“Nope.”  Lizzy smirks and swings a leg over his body under the covers, straddling him as she kisses him.  In no time flat the two are consumed by each other once more. 

One hand in her hair, one reaching down her body and landing on the curve of her bottom, Dean relishes the contours of her figure.  A body like hers and it’s no wonder he so easily falls into this place of unthinking physicality. 

Lizzy’s hands grip around the elastic waist of his boxers.  “I don’t know what it is about you,” she starts, reaching into his underwear.  “But all I want to do is fuck you.”

"I fully support whatever it is that's making you feel like that...."

“Lizzy!” they hear Lou’s voice shout from outside their bedroom door, her fist pounding a couple times. “It’s late, get up!”

“Why?” Dean complains terribly as he drops his head back with disappointment.             

Lizzy lets out a deep sigh of frustration and sits up on his hips.  “I’m up, Lou!  Relax, I’ll be down in a little bit!”

“Dude, it’s after eleven!  Get your hands off Dean’s dick and get out here!  It’s Sunday!”

Lizzy and Dean meet eye lines and she lets his dick go from her grasp.  “Subtle,” she mutters under her breath.  “Go away, Louie!  I’ll be down soon!”

“If I miss kick off, I am totally going to kick your ass!”

They both listen as they hear Lou’s footsteps get softer and softer.  Lizzy’s hand instantly returns to Dean’s underwear the second she knows Lou’s gone.  “Better make this quick then, huh?”

* * *

“Bullshit!  Holding!?” screams Lou at the screen.

“Seriously!?  What the fuck!?” Lizzy adds.

“Off your knees, ref!”  Lou shouts fruitlessly at the screen. 

Sam and Bobby both shoot confused looks towards her.  Dean decides to fill them in on the insult.  “He’s blowing the game.”

“Ah, lovely.  Very ladylike,” Bobby retorts with joking disappointment.

Lou, eyes still glued to the screen, tells him, “Shove it up your ass, old man.  The officiating in this game has been utter horseshit.”

"Remember who you're speaking to," Bobby challenges.  Knowing better, Lou shoots him a look of apology, one he silently accepts.

The five are sharing a corner booth at a local sports bar.  It’s clear just how diehard the girls are when it comes to football.  Through the afternoon, Lou and Lizzy swore at the TVs, high-fived over the table, and performed some interesting touchdown dances.  Dean and Sam find themselves appreciating their inability to half-ass anything, especially their fandom, which is yet another thing they have managed to hold onto from their previous lives.  Once the game ends, the girls are finally able to put their focus elsewhere.

“So what’s the plan, ladies?  You heading to Shirley’s tomorrow?” Bobby asks.

“Yes sir.  I talked to her earlier today and she’s all excited.  We’ll tell her you said hi.”  Lizzy smiles, always excited to see her grandmother.

“Please do,” he tips his trucker at to the older woman he respects. 

“Oh, and if you hear of anything in New England you’ll give us a call, right?”

"Will do, Liz,” Bobby promises her.  “Hey, have you noticed it’s been surprisingly quiet in that area for a little while now?”

“Has it?” Lou questions, thinking it over.

“It has,” Bobby nods with concern.  “I’ll call if I find anything but I don’t think you’ll hear too much from me.”

“Huh, who would have thought it’d ever be quiet out that way,” Lou laughs.  “Usually there’re enough ghosts around there to keep us busy ‘round the clock.”

 “Can’t figure out what it’s about.  I’ve seen spikes in activity elsewhere though.   It’s like evil is concentrating itself in other places.”

“You talked to Ash about that yet?  I mean, if there is a pattern, he already knows about it.”  Sam makes a valid point, Dean thinks. 

“Nah, but I should’ve by now,” Bobby easily agrees.  “I’ll call him when we get back.”

“Fill us in on what you find out, Bobby.  In case it’s a sign of… something.”  Dean can see that Sam is having that research itch again.

Bobby nods and finishes the last gulp he had left of his beer.  “I’m ready to head.  What about you kids?”

“Bobby, why don’t you take Lizzy’s car back,” Dean tells him.  “We’ll take the Impala.  There’s something else we need to do before heading back.”  He turns to Lizzy.  “That ok with you?”

“I guess,” she agrees without knowing what what’s up.

“Alright.  I’ll see you in a bit,” Bobby departs.  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Lou tosses the keys to the Toyota and Bobby catches them before walking towards the door.  Dean gets up, offering Lizzy his hand as he does.

“Fine, I’ll bite.  What do we need to do?” Sam wonders.

“We’ve gotta make sure these girls are safe out there on their own before they leave.”

* * *

“You ready, Lou?” Lizzy asks.  Lou has Lizzy’s hand in a death grip, her knuckles turning white.  Dean swears he heard a bone crack but Lizzy stays put.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Her nervous tone makes Dean slightly regret making the girls do this but he knows it’s for their own protection in the long run.  They have to do this, especially now that they know the Winchesters. 

The whirring sound the machine suddenly makes forces Lou to jump slightly.  She’s sweating and shaking like a leaf. 

“Hun, you’re gonna have to stay still unless you want this tat to look like a five year old did it.”

Lou’s eyes snap onto the artist.  “Doing my fucking best,” she grits out.

The burly man moves in closer to Lou as he prepares to start his work on the anti-possession symbol that is outlined on her lower back.  Lizzy didn’t allow her to get it in the center, not wanting her friend ‘walking around like a fucking tramp-stamped whore.’  The design is off to her right side and low enough that her pants will cover it and no one would normally see it. 

Lou told them she never planned on ever getting a tattoo and now Sam and Dean see why.  With all the shit she witnesses on a weekly basis, all the hits she takes… they can’t understand the irrational fear she has over needles.

The tattoo artist begins his work as Lou lets out a small yelp but she calms down a little once he gets going.

"Hey, you two mind if we head out while you do this?” Dean asks them once Lou is on her way.  “We have some supplies to pick up.”

“Go for it.  I’ve got this one,” Lizzy tells him, wincing as Lou’s grip tightens.

“Ha, you sure?” Sam jeers.

“Yes, unless you want to come and take my place that is?” she puts out the challenge.

“No way.  You have fun with that.”

Sam and Dean drive a few miles down to the home improvement store.  They grab a cart to start filling up on the essentials.

“I’m thinking we need to get a few extra things,” Dean tells Sam. 

“Like?” Sam asks, confused.

“I got a peek inside Lizzy’s trunk the other day and they aren’t as prepared as they should be.”

“Why were you rooting around in her trunk?” Sam has to wonder but he catches Dean’s smirk at his words.  “You know what I meant.”

“I wanted to make sure they were prepared,” Dean explains himself.  “You know shit’s getting weird out there, man.”

“Yeah… I guess you can’t be too careful,” Sam agrees when he sees Dean’s point.

“Exactly.”

“So what do they need?”

“Jesus, everything.  They had a bag of salt, a couple Glocks, a couple hunting knives, and two old ass books.”

“No EMF?”

“I didn’t see one but Bobby probably made sure they had one.”

“Ok, what about anything made of iron, or rosary beads?”

“Nope.”

“Really!?”

“That’s why we need to stock them up.  We can’t let them leave without being fully ready for anything.”

Sam pauses in the middle of an aisle, narrow eyes on his brother.  “Bobby told us that they don’t hunt anything too big.”

“So?” 

“Are you sure they need a whole lot more than they already have then?” skepticism plastered all over Sam’s face.

“Yes!” he returns with awfully quickly.  “How many times have we gone into an easy job only to get our asses handed to us by something much bigger?  They have to have the tools to handle whatever comes their way.”

Dean starts to walk away and keep moving but Sam stops him.  “Being a little over protective, don’t you think?”

Dean was, and he knew it.  They were good girls, honest people who were unfairly led down a dangerous road.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle anything bad happening to Lizzy or Lou if he could have prevented it, or at least given them what they need to avoid it.

“No,” Dean lies.  “It’s just… it’s getting scary out there, Sam.  You said so yourself.  And eventually you know as well as I do that they’ll move on to bigger hunts.  That’s just fact.”

Sam doesn’t talk back as he can see his point.

“They’ve been good to us, Sam.  We need to repay the favor.”

“Ok.  I can get on board with that.” 

“Good,” Dean says, moving through the store.  When they reach the bagged salt Dean drops a heavy sack into the cart.  As he does, Sam waits a beat before prying. 

“It isn’t because you might, maybe have a thing for Lizzy though, right?  Maybe you feel responsible for her safety now that you’ve gotten close to her?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean lies again, walking ahead of Sam.  “That chick is tough as nails.  She can handle herself.  Just trying to help out a couple nice people.”

His little brother knows he’s absolutely lying.  “Whatever you say, man.” He laughs

Sam can see through Dean and Dean knows Sam’s right.  Dean does have a thing for her.  He couldn’t help it nor could he stop it.  This weekend was the most fun he’s had in a long time, if not in his life, and it wasn’t because he and Sam finally took time off.  That may have been part of it but Lizzy is the main reason.  She brought him more than sex, home cooked food, and some new clothes.  She showed him compassion and understanding right when he needed it the most.  And most of all, she gave him hope. 

If fate is real, he’s certain it’s cruel.  Fate got it right getting Lizzy and him together, but fate is a huge, PMSing bitch for forcing them apart. 

Fuck that.  Fate can’t be real.

Moving on, Dean thinks of something he hasn’t gotten to question Sam about yet.  “Hey, by the way, whatever happened to you last night?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, swallowing hard as his cheeks burn right up.

“I mean… I noticed the couch hadn’t been slept on…”  Shit eating grin firmly in place, Dean lightens the mood. 

“I didn’t sleep on the couch,” Sam quietly admits.

“Then where is it that you slept, little brother,” Dean patronizes, grabbing a couple crowbars and putting them in the cart.  He stops and smirks at Sam.

“We… I managed.”  He knows he really has to work on his lying to Dean.  No way did he buy it.

“That mean she managed her way into your jockeys?” Dean lights right up.

“Damn it, Dean.”  Sam’s avoidance of eye contact along with an annoyed response gives Dean the answer he was hoping for.

Dean elbows his little brother.  “You sly dog!”

“Shut up….”

“No fucking way.  I’m proud of you, man,” Dean says swatting Sam’s shoulder.

Sam rolls his eyes a little.  “Yeah, well… at least one of us is.”

Taken off guard by that unexpected reaction, Dean has to wonder, “The hell does that mean?”

“I… I had to kill Madison a week ago,” he says with sadness in his actions.  “ _A week ago_.  And I already slept with a girl I just met.”

“Madison was a girl you just met and you had no idea you’d have to… do what you did,” Dean rebuts right away.

“I just… I feel like I shouldn’t have….  Not so soon.”  Sam’s guilt is all over him, in his face and his posture.  He resisted Lou even after he admitted silently to himself that he really liked her, even wanted her.  But Madison, he really liked her too.  A lot.  Instantly.  Having sex with someone else felt wrong.

“Sam?”  Dean watches his brother look up and right at him.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure as hell feels like I did,” Sam lowly responds.

“Screw what it feels like.  You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dean swears to him.  “It’s not your fault Madison got turned and it isn’t your fault that she asked you to… take care of her.  You were the last good thing she had.  Why should you feel bad for giving her that?”

Seeing his point, Sam stands a little taller but just a little.  “I feel like I… I don’t know.  I feel like I dishonored her….”

“What is this, the middle ages?” Dean pokes fun.  “Sam, did you have fun last night?”

He pauses despite knowing his answer.  “Yeah.”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?” Dean gripes.  “Be grateful that a totally hot chick wanted your dick for once and accept it for the lucky break that it is.  Don’t get too deep into that head, Sam.  It never does you any good.  Plus, do you really think Madison would be cool with you tormenting yourself over her?"”

Dean moves on, leading the way and signifying the end of the conversation.  As he pushes the cart along Sam starts to think Dean’s right.  He did have fun.  Lou was very fun, if not a little crazier than the average girl he’s been with.  And he felt pretty damn good after until the thought of Madison popped into his head.  And he held off for two full days of Lou’s trying.  That’s got to be a record somewhere.

“So… Lou as feisty as I pictured her?” Dean finally asks with a smirk but the look he gets in return promises that Sam’s a lead vault on this one.  “Fine!  Fine… worth a try, wasn’t it?”

The two brothers shop around, picking up iron crowbars, big plastic containers for holy water, flasks, sidewalk chalk, spray paint cans, a hammer, pliers, and anything else they can think of.  Dean figures he can give them one of the old shotguns that either Bobby or they could spare.  He’ll also give them one of the few rosaries they had along with the rest of their empty shells.  They’d have time to restock once they saw the girls off.  Sam suggests they make one more stop at an office supply chain before meeting back at the tattoo parlor.  Once their errands are done, they drive the couple miles back to where the girls are.

“How we doing in here?” Dean asks once inside the door of the shop.  Lou is sitting off to the side reading a magazine and Lizzy was now in the hot seat.

“Doing well,” she smiles at him with her arm laid out for the tattoo artist.  “A few more minutes and we’re good.” 

Sam takes a seat in the waiting area and begins working on something, pulling a couple items from the office supply store plastic bag. 

Dean surveys Lizzy’s progress and notices that she is not adding the symbol to the rest of her work on her upper arm.  Instead, she had the artist put it on the inside of her wrist.  “Kept this one separate?”

“Yeah,” Lizzy looks up at him.  “It feels like an important one.”

He wrinkles his face in lack of understanding.

“The meaning behind it is different than the rest.  It deserves its own place.”

And it clicks for him.  He knows she doesn’t just mean that it has a purpose and it’s, as she called it, functional art.  It’s because it was something that will remind her of this specific weekend and their time together.  It’s something that will remind her of him. 

“Well… I like it,” he tells her, smiling slightly at the idea that he has some sort of permanence with her.  It’s comforting.

“Me too,” she smiles full wattage right back, glad that he can appreciate her sentiments.

“Ugh…” Lou complains loudly, her head tilting back with a huge groan of upset.  “Get a fucking room.”

* * *

“Alright, just push the shell into the magazine until you hear and feel a click,” Dean instructs while monitoring Lou’s progress.

“Ok, got it.” Lou announces easily enough when she loads the shotgun shell with instant professionalism.

“Now pop that baby closed again and make sure it’s locked in.”

Dean watches as she swings the gun up with one hand, popping the barrel of the spare sawed-off Bobby had donated to the girls back into place with what looks like practiced ease.  Bobby was right, weaponry was Lou’s thing.  She moved quickly and expertly, as if she’d done it all before despite saying she hadn’t.  She becomes one with the weapon, something John used to tell his boys to do when training as children. 

“Child’s play,” she tells him with an air of well-deserved confidence.

“Guess so,” Dean huffs a laugh.  “Now you just need to make sure you teach Lizzy the same thing as soon as you can.”

“I will, but this baby will be in my hands most of the time if I have anything to say about it,” she looks over the old, smoothed wooden handle of the antique piece.  “It’s fucking bad ass.”

“Easy, Annie Oakley,” Dean tells her as he looks over to Bobby and Lizzy.  They are looking into the trunk of the Toyota, Bobby talking and pointing as he does.  They were doing their best to give the girls a total rundown of their new equipment while Sam has been in the kitchen for the past hour or so. 

The kitchen door opens and Sam walks outside.  Dean starts toward him as he walks outside to join the group.

“Hey,” Sam greets evenly, nodding at Dean.  “How’s it going out here?”

“Good.  Really good, actually,” Dean says.  He glances at Lou as she unloads and reloads the new shotgun.  “Lou, uh… scary.”

“Yeah… I know,” Sam says in a disturbed voice, not talking about her marksmanship. 

Dean just lets it go.  Conversation for another day.  “What about you?  You get everything down?”

“Oh yeah,” he answers with certainty.  “All the stuff we talked about before plus some important contacts and a few more words of wisdom I came up with on my own as I went.”

“Lemme see?”

Sam hands over the new black leather bound journal he’d been holding.  Dean begins paging through and checking out Sam’s handiwork.  His penchant for research and organization is highly apparent in the now filled pages.  Separated into sections, Sam included many of the more common creatures they’ve come across along with how to hurt/dispose of them, symbols and their various purposes including directions for a Devil’s Trap, and instructions for both exorcisms and blessing holy water.

“Dude, this is awesome,” Dean comments.

“Thanks,” Sam huffs, a little surprised by the compliment.

“So… this is how your brain’s organized?” Dean asks, looking up at Sam’s long-hair covered head.

“I guess,” he shrugs, not having thought about it.  “I know I’m just scratching the surface with that but I tried to get the most essential stuff in there.  They should be able to get by with that.”

“Definitely,” Dean agrees.  “Nice job, Sammy.”

Sam does his best to hide the upward turn the corners of his mouth are threatening, but Dean catches it. 

"Can you go through everything once more with them?” Dean requests, angling to give himself a moment.  “Make sure they got everything?”

“No problem,” Sam replies as he turns and walks toward the others.  Dean asked that Sam leave the first page blank of the journal for him and now he takes the free time to sit at the kitchen table and add in his two cents.  No, he can’t get the journal started like Sam could… but he can appeal to the two girls’ sentimental side and makes sure they take this seriously.

He takes his time, especially since writing isn’t a regular thing for him, and once finished, he leans back in his chair and reads it through to himself:

_Lizzy and Lou,_

_This is you new journal.  Sam thought it best you have one of your own and I couldn’t agree more.  He started you off with some basic and very essential information.  Study it and know it by heart because you never know when it’ll save your asses._

_Most of the pages are blank and that’s where you two come in.  As you hunt, you need to put down everything you experience and learn.  You will be glad that you have a record of your past jobs.  You have no idea how important and necessary that information will become.  Without our Dad’s journal, Sam and I would have been screwed more times than I can mention._

_We may have just met you both but Sam and I want you to know that getting to hang out with you two has been really good for us.  For that we owe you and we hope this can help pay you back.  Your safety is crucial.  If you are ever in a bind, please don’t think twice about contacting us.  Bobby will always have a number to reach us at.  Don’t ever be afraid to ask for help._

_I speak for both my brother and I when I say thank you.  You’ve been more than generous and you gave us an actual home for the short time we had together.  We don’t get lucky like that too often._

_Good luck out there.  Be safe.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do._

_Dean_

Maybe it’s a little chick-flickish towards the end, but Dean is satisfied.  The most important points are made and that’s what matters.  He puts on his oversized leather coat and heads outside again, journal in hand, to rejoin the group.  The sun went down hours ago but despite the biting cold, everyone remains by the cars in the driveway.  Sam has taken Bobby’s place and is pointing into the trunk.  He’s somehow still coming up with more information to give.  What a nerd.  Dean steps next to Lizzy, dropping his arm around her should as he does and she wraps her arms around his waist, angling to him.  Once Sam is finished he and Lou walk over to them.

“Sam and I want you guys to have this.”  He holds out the journal in Lou’s direction, not wanting Lizzy to take it.  She’s let go of him to do that.  “Every good hunter needs a journal and it looked like you didn’t have one so we started one for you.  Before you leave tomorrow go through it and let us know if anything is missing or unclear.”

“Seriously?” Lizzy asks up to him, surprised at the gesture, as Lou snatches up the journal with excitement.

“Yeah.  You need to be safe out there,” Dean says, his arm tightening around her shoulders a little as he says it.

“Fuck, man.  This is crazy,” Lou says while leafing through the newly written in journal.  “I can’t believe you guys did this for us.  This is fucking killer.”

“Everything I could think of off the top of my head should be there,” Sam adds in.  “If you think I missed anything let me know.  I can fix it before you go.”

“I doubt you missed anything here, Iron Giant,” Lou winks at him.

“Iron Giant?” Dean asks with the odd nickname and he watches Sam go a shade of red he’s never seen from his brother before.

“Oh yeah,” Lou lights right up and grins at Dean.  When Dean shakes his head in confusion she tries to explain.  “Because Sam’s got a….”

“ _Lou_!” Sam freaks out and stops her, not wanting this conversation to happen.

“Like he doesn’t know!” she laughs and elbows him.

“Lou, shut up,” he grits out with pure embarrassment. 

“Fine,” she grumbles and rolls her eyes like a petulant child.

“Thank you,” Sam answer with relief and looks away from the group to recover from the almost mortifying moment.

Lou then looks at Lizzy and Dean and holds her hands out with a wide gap between them, indicated Sam’s size with a face of total shock and awe.

“No!” Lizzy says with lack of belief, her jaw dropped. 

“Swear,” Lou nods and drops her hands fast so Sam doesn’t catch it when he looks back at her with curiosity.

“Aw, c’mon,” Dean complains and steps away from Lizzy as he talks to Lou.  “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?  I didn’t do anything,” Lou shakes her head as Sam gives her a dirty look, angry with her.  He walks away into the house without another word, humiliation running through him.

Lou looks to Dean.  “How is he not more proud of that?”

“I have no idea,” Dean admits, still unable to understand his brother on this matter.  “But I do know you’re gonna have a hard time getting back on his good side after that.”

“Don’t worry,” Lou smirks, looking at the side door as it closes behind Sam.  “I know how to get on his good side.”

“Go easy, Louie,” Lizzy warns for possibly the millionth time since meeting Sam. 

“Whatever,” Lou rolls her eyes again.  “I’ll apologize.”

She leaves them and heads after Sam, looking to make things right.  She sometimes forgets how forward and open she is about things like sex and that not everyone appreciates it.  She doesn’t want Sam upset with her.

“She’s gonna shatter him,” Dean says to Lizzy as they stand in the cold.                

“Doesn’t he need a good shattering?” she challenges.

“Depends on how good I guess,” Dean says with obvious worry.

“Well, on a lighter note, thank you,” Lizzy moves on and retakes her place under Dean’s arm.  “This was so nice of you guys, all of it.”

“Just want you guys ready for anything,” he tells her with full honesty, pulling her by the hips so she’s facing him.

“Well, now I feel like Lou and I can take on the world,” she grins and pulls her arms around his neck.

“Maybe not the world,” Dean interjects.  “We don’t want you getting into any deeper crap than you have to.  This is just to cover your ass in case shit ever hits the fan.”

“Well, thank you very much for everything.”  Lizzy cranes her neck and kisses Dean in thanks.  Once she pulls away from the quick kiss she just looks at him for a second and moves in for a longer one, always wanting more of him.

And who is Dean to argue?  He’s got one last night.  He’s getting laid again before he leaves if it kills him.  No way is he letting her leave without at least one more go at her. 

Lizzy ends the kiss eventually to offer something wonderful to Dean.  “You know, I’d love to take this party inside.”

“Yeah?” Dean arches an eyebrow with the promise.

“Oh yeah,” he presses up on her tiptoes and leans into his ear with a sexy voice.  “So I can fill that empty stomach of yours up with some home cooked food.”

Dean closes his eyes.  “Oh God, yes,” he groans, his stomach growling instantly.  “I’m fucking starving!” 

“I know,” she laughs and pulls away from him, heading for the house.  “You like pork chops, right?”

She grins wide before hustling for the door, ready to get going on dinner for the house.  Dean sighs as she does, watching her ass the entire way as dreams of pig on his plate run through his mind.  “She’s fucking awesome,” he says to himself with a small shake of his head and follows her in.

* * *

 


	9. Parting Ways

* * *

After dinner is eaten and cleaned up, the house separates.  Bobby heads for his books, looking up information for a frantic Rufus that called earlier, Lizzy and Dean very suspiciously disappear to the second floor, and Sam settles in on the couch in the living room with his copy of the newest book he dug up from Bobby’s collection of non-supernatural literature.

Lou finds him this way, sitting on the couch and completely involved in his book.  She pauses there and observes him when he doesn’t realize she’s there.  From the doorway his oddly long and shaggy hair is covering over parts of his face but she can still see the concentration written into it.  His forehead wrinkling and unwrinkling with what he reads and reacts to, his eyes darting back and forth across the pages with impressive speed, he’s comfortable.  He’s probably in his happy place.  No hunt, no worries… just a couch and a book.  She can respect that.

“What’re you reading?”

Sam’s head snaps up with a start, her voice yanking him from the book.  “Oh, uh… hey,” he smiles slightly to see Lou standing in the doorway of the kitchen.  “Didn’t know you were there.”  He sighs without knowing he does it, still a little uncomfortable with her.  She comes on far stronger than he knows how to deal with and all the objectification is getting old at this point. 

“That’s why I spoke up,” she smiles warmly, leaving her usual predatory ways outside of the room.  Taking a seat opposite him on the couch, Lou turns in her seat to face him and leaves plenty of space between them.  “What’re you reading over there?”  She nods at his book.

“Uh, _Tree and Leaf_ ,” Sam says to her, marking the page with an old scrap of notebook paper he tore off a pad in Bobby’s study to focus on her.  “It’s by….”

“Tolkien,” Lou knowingly finishes for him.

He smiles wide.  “You know this one?”

“I don't know Tree but I know _Leaf by Niggle_ ,” she tells him.  “My dad read it with me as a kid.  It’s a really good story.”

“I’m only halfway through right now,” he looks down at the cover, the simple text without illustration on the hard-covered book making him feel happy somehow.  “But it’s good.”

“Tolkien has a way with adventure stories,” she nods and laughs slightly.  “I really liked that one when I was little.  I remember thinking how unfair it was that Niggle got taken away from his life’s work before he could properly finish it.”

“He had a duty,” Sam shrugs, understanding the artist in the book well enough.  The painter was working on his masterpiece but over and over again people pulled him away from what he really wanted in order to get his help.  He can sympathize.

“Yeah but… everyone has to do things for themselves,” Lou rebuts.  “He was an artist.  All he wanted to do was finish what he started… to do what he truly loved to do.  It just always felt so unfair that he couldn't.”

Sam nods, understanding.  “But he knows the importance of helping others.  You gotta appreciate that.”

“I do,” she nods and smiles.  “Guess we both do.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, looking down at the book. 

“I won’t tell you how it ends… but I think you’re gonna like it,” Lou says to him, knowing that Niggle never gets back to his life’s work, to what he wanted for his life's meaning in the long run, but the consolation prize of what does become of his life after all the fighting and strife is beautiful enough and well deserved.  “Make sure you finish that.  I know you'll get it... and appreciate it.”

“I will,” Sam says and makes a funny face as he sits back in his corner of the couch and turns to angle himself towards her too.  He’s more relaxed with her now, since she's not been crude or pushy for once, and he’s also pleasantly surprised.  “You didn’t strike me as a reader.”

“Oh no?” Lou asks with a laugh.

“No, not at all,” he laughs in return. 

“What did I strike you as then?” she asks with curiosity, propping an elbow on the back of the old couch and leaning her cheek into her hand.

Sam pauses.  Should he be honest?

“Yes, you should tell the truth,” Lou says, his worries obvious.  “Go for it.  I’m tough skinned.  I can take it.”

“Alright…” Sam cautiously begins.  “Well, first night?  I thought you were… brazen.”

“Brazen isn’t bad, right?”

“No.  You just… came on strong,” Sam tells her.  “Maybe too strong.”

“Most men usually like when I come on that strong,” Lou rebuts.

“Guess I’m not most men,” Sam says quietly.

“No you’re not,” Lou responds and Sam snaps his focus right onto her hard, blown away by the honesty instead of slick flirtation in her voice.  Her expression is soft yet serious.  “I know I come off a certain way,” she explains herself.  “But I have to.  It’s just Lizzy and me out on the road.  We can’t afford to show weakness.  If it’s not an evil bastard that we’re after it’s a guy that thinks we’re easy targets at the bar.  I know what we look like and I know how some men think.”

“I doubt any men are dumb enough to try anything unwanted on you or Lizzy,” Sam scoffs at the idea.  Both of them are intimidating enough and can handle themselves. 

“You’d be surprised how dumb your sex can be,” Lou laughs.  “I know it sounds stupid since I’m only days older than her, but Lizzy… she’s….”

“Trusting,” Sam says, having observed enough of the girl. 

“Very.  And sometimes she thinks the best of humanity when she shouldn’t.  I feel responsible for her.  I need to protect her from that shit when I can so I’ve become… tough.  And harsh.  So... I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sam questions.

“I just… I’m used to putting on a certain face,” Lou shrugs.  “I’m sorry if I came on too strong for you.”

Sam nods, shocked by all this.  He never saw the honesty and apology coming.

“And… I’m sorry if I pushed you into anything,” Lou says with a cringe.  “Everything you told me about Madison and Jessica… I just wanted you to see it could be ok.  I mean, I’m still here, right?”

He huffs a laugh at this.  Only she could talk him right out of his pants and have a point to prove through it.  “You are.”

“And nothing came for me… and I didn’t, like, turn into anything else,” she promises.  “I know how to protect myself.  If I go down fighting it won’t be because I had sex with you.”

He laughs again, blown away by her openness. 

“I sure hope not,” Sam tells her, finding that he’s grown fonder of the girl than he’s thought.  Once she returned to the kinder and calmer version of herself he saw the night before he remembers what it was that made him fall under her spell.  She’s very understanding and she’s really just a kind girl that buries herself under a shell, one that she needs in order to survive in her world.

And the way he grins at her, warm and comfortably, she knows she’s got him back on her side.

“So what’s your plan for the night?” Lou moves on.  “Read until you pass out?”

“That was the plan,” Sam nods.  “Maybe I’ll check the news for anything we might want to get on tomorrow once you guys go.”

“Sounds kind of boring, but ok,” Lou giggles a little at him.  “You know, if you want some company… I wouldn’t mind hanging out.”

“Is that a come on?” Sam has to ask as he doesn’t truly know.

“No,” she laughs.  “I mean, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with a huge giant that takes up most of it again if the night leads in that direction, but I meant it.  I’m sorry for being so pushy.”

“I appreciate that,” Sam admits.

“You better!” she laughs.  “I’ve never apologized for my attitude in my life before!”

“Your poor parents,” Sam laughs with her. 

“I put them through the ringer,” she lets him know.  “But seriously, I wanna hang out.  And, if you want and only if you want, we can see where the night leads.”

“Fair enough,” he smiles, dimples full out and Lou’s heart beats faster.

“Just remember something when it's time to turn in,” Lou requests.  “We worked _really_ well together.”  She shoots a knowing look.

“We… did,” he quietly agrees, looking down at his book, planning on how to let her down gently later.

* * *

Lizzy kicks the door to the bedroom shut behind her as she searches through the music on her iPod.  Once satisfied with her choice she pops it into the dock she brought up with her and pushes play.  Neil Young’s voice softly fills the air as ‘You and Me’ begins.

“Last night,” she says to him as she leans back into the dresser the dock is on and looks at Dean sitting on the bed they’ve shared for two nights now.  It’s more of a lament than a statement.  She’s not ready for the weekend to be over.

“That it is,” Dean concurs as he looks at her in her shorts and tank top, Sam’s brown sweatshirt on her like a dress.  Her bare legs look so long and smooth as she crosses them at the ankle.  Where the hell did this weekend go?

“I was thinking about quitting,” she jokes to him with a smile that lets him know just how not-serious she is.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asks, lightly smiling at her as he sits on the foot of the bed, feet planted on the floor.

“Yep.  Gonna get a place in the woods somewhere… off the grid.  Live off the land.  Maybe house some weary hunters now and then,” she says, smirking.

“Ah,” he nods.  “You’re setting up booty calls.”

“I only have one booty call in mind, thank you,” she feigns insulted.  “What do you think I am?”

“Easy?” Dean smiles wide.

“Fuck you!”

“Hey, you slept with me pretty damn quick,” he rebuts.

She looking him over and says seriously, “You’re different.”

He doesn’t know what to say back to that and a silence grows between them.  Lizzy hops onto the bed and sits Indian-style.  Dean moves back, lying on his side facing her with an elbow propping his head up.  Their usually easy banter isn’t flowing as freely now that their time together is almost up.

“This is kinda weird,” she says out of nowhere.

“A little,” he agrees, his free hand reaching out to push her bangs out of her eyes. 

“Why is this weird?” Lizzy wonders out loud, not appreciating it.

“Not sure.”  He’s a liar.  Dean knows it’s because she’s leaving and neither of them knows when, or if, they’ll ever see each other again.  Uncertainty sucks and so does knowing that whatever this thing is between them has to end and they have no choice over the matter. 

And now he sees for sure that there is something between them.  He can feel the icy grip of fear make its way into his chest at the very idea.

“I feel like there’s so much I’m supposed to say right now but I for the life of me can’t figure out what it’s supposed to be.”  She then huffs a laugh.  “Which is strange because talking isn’t normally a struggle for me.”

Dean laughs at this.  “I’ve noticed….”

“Watch it,” she playfully smacks his shoulder.

“But I know what you mean,” he assures her, making sure she gets that she’s not alone in this right now.

Lizzy shifts closer, lying next to him on her side also so that their faces are just inches apart.  She rests the palm of her hand on his cheek.

“I’m going to miss you,” she tells him, honesty all she has left.  “I kinda feel like I already do and I haven’t even left yet.”

Dean doesn’t respond but instead moves in and kisses her lips gently.  This was much easier for him than using actual words as emotional moments were never his thing.  He’s an actions kind of man.

When he pulls his lips away she looks right into his eyes.  “I just… I wish that…”

“I know,” Dean stops her.  “Trust me… I know.”  Her words were going to sting and it’s easier to leave everything unsaid yet still understood.  He pulls her closer, his arm around her waist and his hand flat against her back, so that no space remained between them.  Her body pressed to his he thinks he would be more than happy to stay this way the rest of his life.

“I better hear from you now and then,” Lizzy gives her fair warning.  “I’ll need to know that you and Sam are ok.  And alive.”

“That can be done,” he promises, kissing her cheek with all intentions of using this last night together the right way.

“I’m serious,” she keeps trying, his lips landing on her neck next.  “If I don’t hear from you I will track you down and kick your ass.”

“So violent,” he says, his tongue running in a circle on her skin.

“Absolutely.  Whatever it takes,” Lizzy tells him, eyes closing as he keeps going.  With his mouth still doing wonderful things to her neck she grows bold.  “You’re… important to me, to us.  You and Sam both are.”

“But mostly me, right?” he asks, his voice vibrating off her skin before he lifts his head and looks right at her.

Lizzy smiles, puts her hand on his neck, pulls him to her, and kisses him in answer.

Soon enough Dean is hovering over Lizzy, lips pressed and hands roaming.  They take their time, enjoying each other for as long as possible.  As Dean hears Eddie Vedder’s voice crooning ‘Come Back’ in the background, he is sure that this is the single most wonderful and heartbreaking moment he’s ever been through.  If he could read her mind he’d know she was thinking the same way.

* * *

Sam flies awake when he hears footsteps coming closer to him across the wooden flooring of Bobby’s living room.  He fell asleep on the couch, giving Lou the room as a good man would and dealt with the cramped space and lack of leg room for people six and a half feet tall.

When he looks up he sees Lou in her sweatpants and a tight t-shirt walking towards him.

“Lou?” he asks her.

Without a word she lifts the spare comforter he has draped over him and climbs in next to him.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks her, knowing that the night before now was friendly and enjoyable in a purely nonphysical way.  It was really nice yet here she is doing exactly what he figured she would.

“Relax,” she says as she presses her back into his front and snuggles in.  “You already turned me down earlier.”

When she yanks his arm around her middle he’s confused.

“Then what is this?” he wonders.

She hesitates.  “Hunting is lonely,” is all she says to him as she settles in right, tired of always being in her bed alone every night.  She felt good when they slept next to each other the night before, waking up to him stirring next to her and getting ready to slip out of bed before she woke. 

And he can’t say anything in return to that.  She’s completely right.  Hunting is lonely.  Granted, as a hunter he’s never alone and neither is she.  They live and work with their partners, constantly in the presence of another.

But it’s so lonely it hurts sometimes.  Hunting makes any form of real relationship nearly impossible and the solitude of that gets old.

So Sam goes with her whim.  He pulls her in tight, letting her fingers weave into his as he settles there.  Her hair is in his face a little but it’s fine.  She smells good and she feels better.  That comfort of another person, one he actually clicked a bit with over literature and their mutual love for things like the fantastical works of Tolkien and an odd fascination with serial killers, is impossible to turn away.

For just one more night he gets to feel like he isn’t alone.  After Jessica and Madison and even his mother and father… Sam deserves as much.

* * *

“You sure you have everything you need?” Bobby questions while watching the girls finish up packing the car. 

“I think so.  I can’t imagine we’re missing anything,” Lou responds.  She had their new journal in hand and she looks to Sam.  “We’re gonna go through this on the ride.  It’ll keep us entertained.”

“You have my number, right?  And Dean’s too?” Sam asks the girls.

“Definitely.  We’ll text you today so you can be sure.”  Lizzy walks to him and gives Sam a tight hug.  She whispers something in his ear that makes him smile.  She then innocently kisses him on the cheek before heading in Bobby’s direction to say her goodbyes to him also

“Dean, it’s been a pleasure,” Lou says stepping in front of him.

“All mine, Lou.” he responds while holding out his hand to her.

“You really screwed me here, bro,” Lou says while shaking his hand.  “I’m gonna have to deal with her depressed ass for a while.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Dean brushes it off.

“No… she really won’t,” Lou says, glancing at her best friend as she puts on a brave face for the proper goodbyes.  “And thanks for that, by the way.”  She winks to let him know she’s joking… sort of. 

Dean just laughs as she walks away, Lizzy now moving towards him.  He swallows hard and looks her over, committing her visually to his memory.  She’s so damn gorgeous.  It’s a shame they have to be on their way.

“So, I wrote you this.”  Lizzy hands over a folded piece of paper when she gets to him.  “I wrote it this morning when you weren’t up yet.  I know you aren’t big on… verbalizing your feelings and all that shit but I usually am.  So, to save you the awkwardness, I put everything down here.”

“Ok,” he nods and pockets the note, appreciating that she would do this for her.

Lizzy pulls him down, circling her arms around his neck.  She kisses him and does it seriously, with every bit of the feelings she’s so quickly and easily developed for him in such a very short amount of time.  When she ends it she hugs him tightly and says directly into his ear, “Be safe out there.  I’m going to need you in one piece for when I get to see you again.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Dean promises her and actually means it.   

“Good.  Because I _will_ see you again.”  Lizzy then backs away while staring up at him, her eyes sincere and filled with a sadness he hadn’t seen on her all weekend.  “I really wish things could be different.”  

So does he.       

“You guys better head out before you lose too much daylight.”

]She forces a pained smile and turns to the car.  Lizzy gets into the passenger side as he sees Lou and Sam hug goodbye.  He’s about as surprised as Sam is when Lou grips his face hard and yanks him into one very big, very attacking goodbye kiss. 

When done, Lou lets him go and smiles wide.  “I’ll get you next time.”  She winks and he smiles a little as she gets into the Toyota.

The car starts and through the rolled up windows Dean can hear ‘Ramble On’ begin played. 

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath as the car begins making its way down the driveway.  Lizzy gives him one last sad look before she can no longer see him from down the driveway.  He feels a hand on his shoulder as the Toyota turns and disappears.  He looks and sees Sam, who gives him a sympathetic look. 

“Jesus Sammy, enough with the chick flick bullshit.”  He shrugs the hand off his shoulder and Sam huffs before leaving him and heading back to the kitchen with Bobby.

Leaning against the Impala, Dean takes the folded note out of his pocket.  Giving it one seriously, he thinks about it and decides not to wait.  He unfurls it and begins to read;

_Dean,_

_I’m not really sure where to begin here since there is so much I have to say so I guess I should just dive right in.  First and foremost, thank you.  I have lost so much in my life and, aside from Lou, no one has ever been able to understand what I have seen and been through.  It is comforting to know we are not alone in this world and I sincerely hope we were able to comfort you in the same way.  You and Sam can consider Lou and me as part of your extended family now.  Lean on us.  Let us help you.  We will always be there if you need us._

_Getting to know you these past few days has been wonderful.  You are an exceptional person, Dean.  With the life you’ve been given most people would be spent beyond belief yet you hold up and keep fighting.  You’re easily the strongest person I know.  I respect you more than I could possibly put down in words._

_As for how I feel about you, I am conflicted.  My lifestyle is not accommodating of actual emotional attachment and that’s why this is so difficult.  This thing we have is different than anything I have ever experienced before.  I have never been so taken off guard by a person.  You do something to me whenever I am near you, or whenever I even think about you, and whatever that something is I really like it.  It’s terrifying knowing that tomorrow I will be waking up alone and unsure of where you are and what you are doing but at least I know you’re still fighting for what you believe in._

_I know it is a scary word so I won’t write it down but I think that's what we have might actually be that.  It’s big.  I can feel it and I know you do too.  I want you to know it’s there for me too since you’re probably freaking out about it in that overworked head of yours.  They say you know it when you feel it.  Well, I feel it._

_The past few days were the best I have ever had.  Getting to know you has been a hell of a ride and more importantly than anything else, I’ve found that I am totally myself with you.  That’s quite a feat these days._

_More than ever before, I wish my fate was not what it is.  I would give anything to pursue what we have a little more but I am realistic.  I just look forward to the chance of finding out there someday hopefully soon enough.  Please be safe.  I have lost people before but I do not think that I can handle losing you too._

_You are a wonderful, good-hearted, well-intentioned man, Dean Winchester.  Do not let this miserable world change you.  The person that you are is pretty damn alright._

_With love,_

_Lizzy Noonan_

Dean huffs a sigh and folds the note back up.  Figures she’d get that deep on him.  She’s not afraid of emotions and she’s always ready to speak them aloud.

And now he’s left with so much to process. 

Love scare the shit out of him.  It’s the one thing that’s led him down this road of shit he’s on now and finding more of it is not something he welcomes.  But that’s the word she wouldn’t write down in that note and he recognizes now that he’s known the strength of his feelings for her all along.  He simply refused to accept it before now because of how terrified it makes him. 

But he can’t ignore it now.  Even if Dean had always done everything he could to avoid this, especially after Cassie ripped his heart out years ago this can’t be ignored.  In his experience love is messy and awful and always ends in heartache, or at least that’s what Cassie taught him. 

This time around?  It’s very different already.  This thing with Lizzy didn’t come with rejection.  Lizzy hadn’t run away when he told her the realities of his life and she would have stayed with him even with that knowledge if she didn’t need to be on the road.  That alone has changed his perspective a bit.

His sadness grows deeper as he mulls over her letter.  Life is insanely difficult and unfair, especially if you’ve inherited the Winchester name.  There’s something in him that’s stirred up with meeting her.  Something that feels a little too much like longing for domesticity for him to let it fully develop.  Dean wipes his palm down his face when it overwhelms him.

“Dean?”

Sam’s voice punctures his thoughts.  Fucking Sam.  How long had he been there?

Dean lifts his head and watches Sam walk towards him.  He takes out his wallet and shoves the note in it before his brother reaches him. 

Sam’s arm is outstretched with a beer that Dean takes from him before Sam leans against the Impala next to him.  “You ok, man?”

“Fine, Sammy.”  Dean takes a huge swig from the bottle in his hand. 

Sam nods, accepting how tight lipped Dean’s about to be within the situation.  He knows his brother well enough.  Now’s not the time to talk about it.  Instead he offers what he can.  “We’ll see them again.” 

“Bet you’d like that,” Dean jokes flatly and he hears Sam sigh with exasperation in his sibling.  He clears his throat.                  “Thanks Sam.”  He does appreciate that his brother is doing what he can to help, even if he’s terrible at it.  They both drink in silence for a few minutes as Sam quietly supports his hurting older brother.

“Well, if you want a distraction Bobby thinks he’s picked up on something,” Sam tries, knowing that working is probably their best bet right now.  Don’t think about the good stuff they just had.  Let it go for now and focus on work before it hurts.  “We can go check it out if you want.”

“What is it?”

“Ghost.  They’re filming a horror flick in LA and people on the set claim something is haunting the soundstage.  A guy died during filming yesterday.  Could be interesting.”

“Huh,” Dean thinks out loud.  “I do love me a good scary movie.”

“Yeah.  I know.”

“Alright.  Let’s head west.”

“I’ll go let Bobby know the plan.”  Sam heads back into the house and Dean hears his phone.  Taking it out of his pocket, he flips it open and checks the text.

_Did I scare the shit out of you yet?_

He laughs.  She’s worried about freaking him out.  How Lizzy knows him so well already he doesn’t get but it’s good of her to check on him.  And she just knew he’d read the letter the second she left.  He responds.

_Nah, I’m good.  Thanks for the letter.  Have a safe trip._

He pushes send.  It isn’t the message she probably wants from him right now, especially with how honest she was in the letter, but Dean needs some time to process everything.  Maybe he can call her and check in after they’re done in LA. 

Dean stands up on his feet and heads into the house.  He has some packing to do if he and Sam were going to get on the road before nightfall.

* * *

  _ **THE END**_


End file.
